The Untold Want
by Penelope-Z
Summary: Warning: Harry/Draco slash. The 5th year at Hogwarts begins with a dramatic confrontation between Harry and Draco.*CHAPTER 11 UPLOADED*
1. Blood on the stairs

Warning: I have rated the story a PG-13 because there will be an eventual Harry/Draco slash pairing. So please avoid this fic if you do not like the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
  
  
Title: The Untold Want  
  
Author: Penelope-Z  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: Everything is the property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just a humble dog not even worthy of dusting her shoes.  
  
A/N: This is my first HP fanfic and only my second fanfic in general. It would be great if you could tell me your opinion cause I'm not really sure about it. At last I have a beta! Thanks to Trephinia Cealyn for her valuable help!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The Untold Want  
  
Chapter 1: Blood on the stairs  
  
  
  
  
  
'I hate you! I'm going to kill you!'  
  
Harry struggled to pull out his wand from his robes, his mind racing trying to find an appropriate spell to cast on Malfoy who was climbing up the stairs, face twisted with rage, closely followed by Crabbe and Goyle. 'Expelliamus!' Malfoy's wand flew from his hand and landed noisily on the floor. He looked at his empty hand for a moment in confusion and then attacked Harry pressing his hands around Harry's neck.  
  
Ron tried to run to his aid but was stopped by Crabbe. Goyle grabbed the edge of Hermione's wand trying to pull it from her hand as she performed a spell. Sparks of cold blue flame began to fly around and they both screamed, in pain or panic, but Harry hardly had time to notice. Malfoy's hands were on Harry's face now, scratching, drawing blood. 'You fight like a girl, you-' Harry shouted and then gasped for air as Malfoy had kicked him in the groin, making him double over in pain.  
  
A crowd of Gryffindor and Slytherin students had gathered around in the narrow corridor but no one dared to come closer as the blue sparks that flew from Hermione's wand seemed dangerous. Even the figures in the paintings were worried, they moved to the background and disappeared in the shadows, whispering.  
  
'Stop, stop!' Harry heard some girls screaming and then Seamus moved bravely in, joining Ron against Crabbe. After a moment of hesitation Blaise Zabini dropped his bag on the floor and leapt on him.  
  
Harry attempted to punch Malfoy but the blond imp managed to grab him by the wrist, digging his nails deep into the flesh. Harry took a deep breath and used his free hand to raise his wand but Malfoy was quicker and grabbed that hand too, twisting it violently behind Harry's back. Their faces were very close now. The typical sarcastic smile was gone and furious anger distorted Draco's elegant characteristics, the icy grey eyes were flaming with passionate hate. Harry almost froze, the intensity of Malfoy's gaze sent cold shivers down his spine. 'Why does he hate me so much?' he wondered. 'What did I do to him?'  
  
'Both of you! Stop! Stop right now!' Snape's voice hissed behind his back. Oh, no he wouldn't. If he was going to get detention he would make sure he gave Malfoy a black eye before. He jerked his hands free and landed a punch square in the middle of that arrogant face. He regretted it a split second. He had never wished to hurt anyone and did not want to start now. Draco winced in pain and screamed something intelligible. He took a step back sobbing, his hands on his face, then another, then another....  
  
'Malfoy! The stairs! Watch out!' Harry shouted and rushed to him. Malfoy slipped and let out an agonizing cry as his arms reached frantically forward, trying to find something to hold on to. Harry was almost there, he tried to grab Draco's hand, their finger almost touched... but it was too late. Malfoy fell backwards and rolled down the stairs. Suddenly everything went quiet, no sound, no movement, apart from the dull thud of the body falling down the stairs. And then nothing.  
  
Silence. Silence. Silence.  
  
Harry screwed his eyes shut, then opened them again wide and looked around in despair. Hermione and Goyle were lying on the floor unconscious, each holding a piece of her wand. Seamus and Blaise Zabini were struggling to get up, dusting their robes. Snape, tall and dark, was clenching his fists, face even paler than usual. Crabbe just stood there, looking utterly confused, his hands still gripping Ron's collar. Ron stared back at Harry while a drop of blood dripped from a scratch of his cheek. And there was more blood. More drops of blood on the stairs. And down there... Draco Malfoy.  
  
His body was sprawled awkwardly on the floor, limps unnaturally twisted, like a marionette whose strings are cut. Eyes open and lifeless, like grey glass beads. And worst of all, a bloody halo started to form around his head on the white marble floor.  
  
Harry was about to rush down the stairs towards Malfoy when a cold hand grabbed his shoulder, shoving him aside. 'Don't you dare!' Snape hissed angrily. 'Stay here. You've done enough damage already.' A small crowd of students had already gathered around Malfoy, pointing at him, gesticulating wildly. 'Keep away!' Snape shouted, running down the stairs followed by Crabbe. 'Don't touch him!' Snape didn't use magic to carry Malfoy, he just slid his hands underneath the limp body and picked him up, cradling him like a child and rushed to the hospital wing. A bevy of crying Slytherin girls followed him, Pansy Parkinson was hiding her face in her hands, shoulders shaking.  
  
Harry felt a bitter taste, like poison and ashes in his mouth, he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He leaned against the wall until his cheek touched the cold stone and took a deep breath that almost hurt. He could feel his arms and legs getting limp with fear, his heart was pounding till his fingertips. He sensed that a heated conversation had begun around him, words, phrases drifted into his ears but nothing registered, as if his mind was covered with thick mist.  
  
'Look at all this blood!'  
  
'I think I'm going to be sick.'  
  
'Hey, Neville has fainted. Somebody bring a glass of water!'  
  
'Do you think Malfoy is dead?'  
  
'Nah, his kind is hard to kill. Didn't you know what happened with Voldemort?'  
  
'Oh, God my head...'  
  
'Are you feeling all right Herm? Goyle is still unconscious.'  
  
'Good, so I can strangle him! The brainless git broke my wand! Hey, what happened here?'  
  
'Potter pushed Draco down the stairs.'  
  
'That's a lie and you know it Zabini!'  
  
'He deserves to get expelled.'  
  
'Shut up!'  
  
'You deserve it too Weasley boy!'  
  
'Somebody please tell me this is all a bad dream...'  
  
Yes, Harry thought shutting his eyes. This is all a bad dream. The fifth year hasn't started yet. It's night still and I am sleeping at the Dursleys. I should get up soon and start packing otherwise I'll miss the train. It will be great to see Ron and Hermione again, watch the Sorting, check out the new Gryffindors. Dinner will be luxurious as always. And Malfoy will stare me at as usual from the Slytherin table but I'll just.... What's this strange light?  
  
'Colin will you stop taking pictures! Leave Harry alone!'  
  
'Fred, what is going on?'  
  
'George, it seems we missed all the fun.'  
  
'This wasn't fun.'  
  
'Definitely not.'  
  
'Harry is in serious trouble. We are all in serious trouble.'  
  
'Hey, I did nothing wrong!'  
  
'Harry are feeling all right?'  
  
'Harry can you hear me?'  
  
'Harry...?'  
  
'Harry, Professor McGonagall is coming'  
  
He snapped back to life when he heard Professor McGonagall coughing lightly behind him and he cast a weary glance over his shoulder. A sea of worried pale faces stared at him, Hermione was biting her lower lip hard. McGonagall's face was an expressionless mask.  
  
'Are you hurt Potter?' she inquired. 'Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?'  
  
'No, I'm fine. But Draco-'  
  
'The Headmaster would like to see you tomorrow Potter, after your classes end, to discuss about the accident. You should go back to Gryffindor tower now and get some rest. It's late.'  
  
She paused and her eyes sparkled behind the gold rim of her glasses. 'He'll be fine Potter,' she added softly. 'He'll be fine.'  
  
'No, you can't come in Potter!' Mrs Pomfrey said impatiently an hour later. 'You'll just upset him and he is tiring enough already. He'll be out tomorrow,' she explained in a friendlier tone seeing the desperation on his face. 'I'm sure you won't get expelled. It wasn't your fault. Now go to sleep. Do you know how late it is?'  
  
Harry walked back to Gryffindor tower ignoring Ron and Hermione who followed him silently, keeping a respectful distance. 'Congratulation brave knight!' Sir Cadoyan roared in excitement, almost falling off the golden frame of his painting. 'I heard the tale of your mighty battle-'  
  
'Oh, shut up!' Ron hissed angrily. 'Look Harry, there's no need to worry about some trash like Malfoy.'  
  
'That's not fair,' Hermione interrupted him. 'I like him even less than you do but he is still a human being.'  
  
'He isn't a human being. He is Draco Malfoy!'  
  
Ron and Hermione continued arguing till they entered the Gryffindor common room. A few students were still sitting around despite the time, including Fred and George Weasley. All heads turned to their direction expectantly, Harry felt curious eyes on his face, examining him.  
  
'I'm going to bed now,' he said weakly.  
  
'But Harry-' Ron and Hermione exclaimed simultaneously.  
  
He raised his hand in protest. 'I don't want to talk about it any more. I just want to sleep now.'  
  
Fortunately Dean, Neville and Seamus were already asleep. He took his robes off, kicked his shoes away and pulled the blanket over his head. It was hot and sticky under the covers but he stayed there pretending to be asleep until he heard Ron coming in, half an hour later. He sensed Ron bending over his bed, he heard a soft, frustrated sigh and then the rustling of fabric while Ron was getting ready for bed.  
  
Disjointed images flew around him in the darkness, memories of the day kept spiraling through his mind. The trip with Hogwarts Express, joking with Ron and Herm while chewing Every-Flavor Beans and chocolate frogs as usual, Hermione was so proud of her prefect's badge, then Malfoy bursting in their carriage with his escorts, full of sarcastic glances and nasty comments about mudbloods. Then Hogwarts at last, seeing Hagrid again was nice. The Sorting, very few Gryffindors this year, and surprisingly even less Slytherins, Malfoy watching him from the Slytherin table, eyes glittering with malice, a short exchange of insults outside the hall, but neither he nor Ron had lost their patience and a few minutes later......  
  
What had happened? What had he done to provoke Malfoy's sudden reaction?  
  
Nothing. Stupid git.  
  
Harry could not sleep. Ron was fast asleep now, oblivious to his friend's suffering. A thought crossed his mind, he stood up and walked out closing the door quietly behind him. The fat lady eyed him suspiciously as he slid his Invisibility Cloak on.  
  
He rushed through the dark stairs and corridors of Hogwarts as quietly as possible. He quickened his pace when he passed by Sir Cadoyan but fortunately the knight was snoring happily and didn't stir. It was hard to find the way to the hospital wing, there was no moon, the black candles were already burned out, wax had dripped everywhere on the floor. The darkness was so thick around him you could almost slash it with a knife but he didn't dare to light his wand afraid of Filch and his annoying cat. It was freezing cold in the passageways and when he opened the door of the room where Malfoy was lying the warm air tingled his face pleasantly.  
  
Malfoy was sleeping quietly. He looked almost angelic resting on the bed, his skin as white as the sheets, his silver blond hair simmering in the darkness. Harry walked carefully towards him. 'Damn you,' he thought. 'Damn you, you complete idiot. Look at what you made me do. Look at what you did to yourself.' He took a step closer. 'Why? Four years you have breathing down my back.' he whispered angrily. 'Why can't you let go of me? Leave me alone you hear me? Leave me alone!'  
  
As he was bending over the bed lost in dark thoughts Malfoy's expression started to change. The peaceful smile swiftly disappeared, a frown started to form, a drop of sweat trickled from the smooth forehead. Malfoy moaned lightly, coughed, his face twitched almost in pain. His eyelids fluttered and then suddenly he shot up, eyes open and expressionless, screaming desperately 'Please, please don't go!'  
  
Harry froze. Malfoy's head was a few centimeters away from Harry's and even though he was still wearing the cloak he could sense Malfoy's eyes on him, as if he could actually see him. No, that was absurd. Harry hesitated not knowing what to do and then the door was flung open and a very worried Madam Pomfrey entered.  
  
  
  
To be continued 


	2. Dumbledore offers pumpkin pie

Warning: I have rated the story a PG-13 because there will be an eventual Harry/Draco slash pairing. So please avoid this fic if you do not like the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
Disclaimer: Everything is the property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just a humble dog not even worthy of dusting her shoes.  
  
A/N: Loads of thanks to my beta reader Trephinia Cealyn!  
  
  
  
  
  
The Untold Want  
  
Chapter 2: Dumbledore offers pumpkin pie  
  
  
  
Madam Pomfrey, obviously alarmed by Draco's desperate cry rushed to the side of the bed, and would have surely tripped on Harry, who was still wearing his Invisibility Cloak, if he hadn't ducked under the bed at the last minute. It was quite dusty there and for a fearful moment he thought he was going to sneeze. He held his breath, praying for the tingling in his nose to go away.  
  
'What's wrong Draco?' he heard Madam Pomfrey say. 'Why are you shouting in the middle of the night?' 'Ah...eh... a nightmare...' Malfoy mumbled. As quietly as he could Harry crept to the other side of the bed and rolled out. He made sure that every part of his body was concealed with the Cloak and then stood up. Madam Pomfrey was tucking Malfoy in, pulling the covers till his chin, and he allowed this, seeming not to comprehend what was going on, blond tufts of hair stuck on his sweaty forehead, his eyes gazing unfocused around the room.  
  
But his expression changed abruptly when Madam Pomfrey attempted to shove a huge piece of chocolate in his mouth. He coughed and his eyes bulged as he gasped for air. Harry watched them both in panic, not knowing what to do. Madam Pomfrey didn't seem to notice that Malfoy was almost choking to death, she calmly arranged the pillows and then patted his forehead affectionately.  
  
'Don't you worry darling,' she smiled. 'It was just a nightmare. I'll stay here with you tonight.' Oh no, Harry thought. He'd never be able to get out. He would have to spend the whole night there, watching Madam Pomfrey feed a semi-paranoid Malfoy sweets. 'Well, I'm grateful for your concern,' Draco replied coldly, regaining his composure. 'But I'd much rather be alone now' he added, raising one eyebrow.  
  
Madam Pomfrey's lips thinned in irritation. 'Suit yourself Malfoy. I'll be back in the morning.' She marched to the door, opened it dramatically and Harry just managed to slip out before she slammed it shut behind her.  
  
Draco wiped his forehead and fell back on the cushions breathing heavily. 'Stupid cow' he muttered, wiping chocolate from the corner of his mouth. 'It was just a nightmare,' he repeated to himself angrily. 'Just a nightmare, you sick bastard.' God, how he hated to lose control. Someone was going to pay for this. And at last he had the means to make him pay.  
  
Everything was still dark and utterly quiet, this eerie calmness that falls upon the world before the first pale light of dawn. Harry ran and ran towards the Gryffindor tower, not bothering any more to disguise the sound of his footsteps. He stormed through the corridors, slipping and falling and knocking down almost everything in sight. Suddenly the milky shadow of a knight appeared through a wall and stopped right in front of him. It was Nearly Headless Nick, who was looking around in confusion, trying to locate the source of the noise, his hand closing over the hilt of his ghostly sword.  
  
Harry's reflexes weren't quick enough, he went right through the ghost, landed face-down on the floor and the Cloak slid from his shoulders. He shivered, feeling as if someone had dumped a bucket of icy water over him.  
  
'Dear Lord what was that?' Near-Headless Nick exclaimed in surprise. 'Oh, it's Harry Potter. What are you doing, running around Hogwarts in the middle of the night dear boy?'  
  
'I was at the hospital wing.' Harry admitted, while struggling to stand up with as much dignity as possible.  
  
'How noble of you!' the ghost declared in excitement. 'To pay your respects to the wounded enemy!'  
  
'Well, not really. Look Nick, I would be grateful if you kept quiet about this.'  
  
'But of course brave boy. The secret of your nightly escapade is safe with me. I swear it on my sword, as any noble knight would.' The ghost's empty eyes twinkled. 'Of course not all knights are noble, like for example that buffoon, Sir Patrick Delany Podmore, the headless ghost, who didn't keep the oath he made once to the lovely Morgana and then she...'  
  
'Excuse me Nick,' Harry interrupted him weakly. 'If you don't mind I think I'll go to bed now.'  
  
'But of course. Go get some rest and don't you worry about a thing Harry.'  
  
Nearly Headless Nick's advice didn't help and Harry climbed into his bed feeling very worried about a variety of things. He thought he would never be able to sleep but soon the exhaustion overcame him and he sank into a deep, death-like sleep with no dreams or nightmares to distract him.  
  
Breakfast at the Great Hall wasn't a pleasant affair. The whole Slytherin table was looking daggers at him, apart from Goyle who was holding his head looking sick. Breakfast tasted like sawdust, even after three spoonfuls of sugar the tea was like bitter gall in his mouth. The empty seat at the Slytherin table seemed to grow in size every moment that passed by. It was becoming huge, taking over almost the whole dining hall and he just couldn't take his eyes off it.  
  
'Come on Harry!' Ron snapped impatiently, locating the aim of Harry's gaze. 'It wasn't your fault. The stupid git got himself in it. Dumbledore will take your side for sure.' Hopefully.  
  
The rest of the Gryffindors seemed to share Ron's optimism. Every few minutes someone would come and pat Harry on the back to congratulate him as if he was a war hero, while Colin and his brother blinded him with their camera flashlights.  
  
'There he is!' Fred exclaimed enthusiastically. 'The Boy Who Freed Hogwarts From Slimy Slytherins!'  
  
'Indeed! All Hail The Mighty Slayer Of Blond Snobbish Gits!' George added, throwing a bread roll to catch Harry's attention. It ended up in Hermione's cornflakes, staining her robes with milk. She looked up, scowling at the twins.  
  
'You think this is all a joke!' she hissed angrily. 'Don't you understand how serious the matter is? Malfoy could have died! And Harry is in danger of getting expelled if the situation isn't cleared up!'  
  
'You must be joking Herm!' Ron countered, rushing in his brothers' aid. 'Harry expelled? For what? He didn't do anything wrong!'  
  
'I know that Ron, but others don't and this behavior won't help anyone, much less Harry and... Hey Harry wait for us!'  
  
Classes proved to be a welcomed distraction. It was still hard to concentrate with half the Slytherins staring at him venomously, mumbling death threats but Harry did his best. He even managed to keep his patience when Professor Trelawny predicted a future for him as a murderous criminal who would end his days locked up in Azkaban.  
  
During Double Potions, while Snape was explaining the side effects of the Veritaserum potion there was a polite knock on the door and Colin Creevy entered looking completely terrified. Obviously he hadn't forgotten the last time he had interrupted Snape's class during the Triwizard tournament. 'Excuse me... Your Highness.... er... Professor... the Headmaster needs to talk to some of the students.'  
  
'Which ones?' Snape inquired sounding not at all annoyed.  
  
'Erm... Granger, Weasley and Finnigan from Gryffindor. Goyle, Crabbe and Zabini from Slytherin.'  
  
'Off you go then' Snape nodded and as they stood up to leave he glanced at Harry with a little malicious smile.  
  
Professor McGonagall came to him after the class ended, while he was trying to pack his school bag with trembling hands. 'The Headmaster will see you know Potter. Follow me.'  
  
They walked in silence through empty corridors and half lit chambers while the stone walls echoed with the cheerful noise of the other students rushing to the Great Hall for dinner. Harry bowed his head, the lump in his throat was threatening to suffocate him.  
  
'Pepper Imps' Professor McGonagall said when they stopped in front of the secret entrance leading to Dumbledore's office. Immediately the stone wall moved revealing the familiar spiral staircase.  
  
'I'll wait here for you Potter.' McGonagall promised, while she pushed him gently in. If her face wasn't half hidden in the shadows he would have sworn she had winked at him.  
  
Harry knocked and his heart sank when he heard Dumbledore grumble impatiently 'Come in.' Fawkes was sitting in his usual place on the golden perch but didn't seem to be in very good health and when Harry greeted him, he just croaked weakly and glared at him with blurry eyes. Dumbledore was staring at some pieces of broken glass on his desk looking unusually stern, but his face lit up when he saw Harry.  
  
'How nice to see you Harry! How were the summer vacations? Tea? Or some nice hot chocolate, muggle-style?'  
  
'Tea would be fine Sir, thank you.' Harry said trying to force down the panic that was bubbling up inside. Dumbledore studied him calmly for a moment before speaking. 'A very unfortunate and complicated affair Harry,' he commented finally, handing him a steaming cup of tea. 'I'll get right to the point. The problem Harry, is that Draco Malfoy claims you pushed him down the stairs. Would you like some nice vanilla pudding?'  
  
'What?' Harry gasped, spilling the burning tea on his lap. 'Sir, I didn't.... It was an accident... I'm sure there are witnesses.'  
  
'Ah, there are indeed witnesses and I spoke to all of them.' Dumbledore sounded exhausted. 'The Gryffindors swear that you didn't, the Slytherins are convinced that you did.' He looked at the pieces of broken glass in dismay. 'This was a nice crystal ball before Ron Weasley decided to use more effective methods to change Blaise Zabini's opinion. But no one really saw what happened.' Dumbledore sighed so gently it was barely audible. 'I believe you Harry but it's out of my hands. I just got an owl from Lucius Malfoy. He managed to convince the Council that you must be punished.'  
  
'Punished, Sir?'  
  
'I'm afraid you will be expelled Harry. Some pumpkin pie perhaps?'  
  
Expelled. Harry blinked. The office started to swim around him, Dumbledore's face dissolved into a white spot, he forced himself to look up so the tears wouldn't roll on his cheeks. Dumbledore's voice floated to his ears as if it was coming from a great distance, an echo in a dark tunnel with no way out. Expelled. Banished from the Wizardry world.  
  
'I wouldn't worry too much about it Harry. Sometimes there is no middle road. You have to push some people to the extremes to achieve a result. Just wait and see. You're sure you don't want some pumpkin pie?'  
  
What was Dumbledore talking about? Which extremes? What result? Which pumpkin pie? This is all a bad dream Harry thought for the second time in two days. I'll just wake up now. I'm still at the Dursleys. The fifth year, not yet... I need to pack... Hogwarts Express... hurry... Ron... Hermione... Draco Malfoy.  
  
There was a light knock on the door, then Draco Malfoy waltzed in gracefully and seated himself without being asked to. He fixed his gaze on Harry, raising his chin defiantly. Harry snapped out of his dreamlike state and was back in his body, his senses alert, feeling completely alive and livid with anger. He glowered at Malfoy as if he was looking at the embodiment of pure evil, the spiteful harpy that was out there to destroy his life. The air was dense, electrified with tension and unspoken challenges.  
  
There was a light, almost invisible silver scar on his left cheek, dark shadows around his eyes, deepening their grey color, but apart from that Draco seemed to be in perfect health. Malfoy is part Veela, Harry realized in surprise, the silver blood of these beautiful and heartless monsters runs in his veins.  
  
'What are you staring at Potter?' Malfoy sneered.  
  
'At a lying bastard.'  
  
'Oh, really you paragon of virtue?'  
  
'Some tea?' Dumbledore interrupted them, handing a cup to Draco. He took the cup and sniffed it suspiciously before tasting the tea.  
  
'I believe my father has contacted you, Sir' he declared with a sly grin.  
  
'Indeed. I am sure you will be happy to learn that Harry Potter will be expelled. You'll never see him again' Dumbledore replied pleasantly.  
  
'Expelled, Sir?'  
  
There was a strange tone in Draco's voice that sounded vaguely familiar and Harry turned to look at him again. Malfoy's hands were gripping, white- knuckled at the steaming cup. There was a spark of surprise flashing in the grey eyes, then something like fear, and then the mask of contempt and hostility slid back in. 'Serves him right' he commented in a strained voice. 'If you don't mind, I'll go now Sir. I have a light headache.' He placed the cup on the desk and rushed out, before Harry or Dumbledore had the chance to say anything.  
  
Draco stumbled in the empty passageways leading to the Slytherin dungeons, breathing heavily. Potter would get expelled. Potter would not be there tomorrow. He wouldn't have to see him again. Concentrate, Draco concentrate.  
  
He could owl his father but it would take too long. What was there to do now? He rushed to the dorm that was fortunately still empty, collapsed on the bed and buried his face in the white pillows. He suddenly remembered that Gregory kept a large amount of alcoholic butterbeer under his bed. He crawled under there and pulled out a couple of dusty bottles. He opened one and sipped eagerly half of it.  
  
He stood up and still holding the bottle he glanced at the elegant oval mirror hanging over his bed, a birthday present from his mother. 'Handsome boy' the mirror flattered him as always. 'Beautiful, powerful wizard.' Draco smiled. 'You pushed it too far this time pretty one. You pushed it too far, didn't you?' His smile disappeared. 'Nobody asked for your opinion!' he snapped at the mirror and gulped down the rest of the beer, reaching immediately for a new one.  
  
Now where was his ink bottle and his quill? Where the HELL was his ink bottle and his quill?  
  
Concentrate Draco, concentrate.  
  
  
  
To be continued  
  
  
  
A/N: I didn't like this chapter very much, I got fed up with it at some point but the next one should be much more interesting. Please review, it really helps if I know someone reads this! 


	3. Going to sleep and waking up

Warning: I have rated the story a PG-13 because there will be an eventual Harry/Draco slash pairing. So please avoid this fic if you do not like the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
Disclaimer: Everything is the property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just a humble dog not even worthy of dusting her shoes.  
  
A/N: Thanks again to Trephinia Cealyn for beta reading this!  
  
Thanks also to MiniMe, Gwen, Laura, ILLK, Ruka-chan, Little Miss Anarchy, Androgyny, Sakurablossom86, Cami, Lovsick, Just someone, Clarkeraven, Kate, Hanna, Claire, nag, Saheen, Soulsister, Goddess, Thalia, AsrtiAnga Traira, Sailor Chibi, Prongs, Evil Windstar, Prophetess of Hearts and Trunks for their reviews.  
  
One more thing. As I've mentioned before, English is not my native tongue so I'm not sure about my grammar, punctuation and the correct spelling of names cause I read the books in translation and the names were written differently. So please e-mail me if you see something that doesn't sound correct.  
  
  
  
  
  
The Untold Want  
  
Chapter 3: Going to sleep and waking up  
  
  
  
He had seen a human heart once.  
  
He had somehow managed to sneak into his father's potion room at the Malfoy Manor. In the middle of the huge oak table, covered with Dark Magic ingredients, dragon scales, cockroach eyes and delicate, transparent grindylow skin he saw the heart, bleeding on a silver tray. It was definitely a human heart, too small to be a dragon's, too red to be a banshee's.  
  
He couldn't remember how old he was at the time, definitely not more than six or seven. The memory was distant and blurred, the more he tried to remember, the more elusive the details became, sliding like grains of sand through his fingers.  
  
But one thing he could remember clearly. How disappointed he was when he realized that the human heart was a mere lump of flesh, a mass of muscle and valves, a web of veins and arteries, a coarse, vulgar organ, clenched like an aggressive fist. 'My heart,' Draco said to himself as the last bottle of beer fell from his hand and smashed noisily on the floor, 'my heart is just a piece of meat that can be chopped up and boiled, or dried and powdered, similar to all ingredients used in magical potions. Quite useful, hard to find, definitely expensive, but nothing more.'  
  
'Mere flesh like this hand.' He raised his left arm and examined the long elegant fingers with the perfectly manicured nails. 'I'm in control of that lump of meat as I'm in control of my hand.' He slammed his fist furiously on the bedside table. Such a fool. Well, the owl was gone now and there was nothing he could do about it. Just crawl into bed before Vincent and Gregory come in and start asking questions.  
  
Harry opened his eyes the merest slit and shut them again instantly, blinded by the morning light. Fireworks exploded, red and green, behind his closed eyelids that ached, red and swollen from yesterday's tears. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, examining the surroundings. The thick velvet drapes shielded him from view, the trunk was packed at the foot of the bed.  
  
He blinked and realization struck him like a knife. He got expelled yesterday, everything was packed and he would have to leave soon. Harry lifted his hand to brush the fringe out of his eyes and then swiftly wiped a tear away. He didn't want to remember what happened after he stumbled back to the Gryffindor tower. The depressing goodbye party the twins had tried to organize. Hermione, crying broken hearted, curled up on the sofa. Ron pacing up and down with trembling hands, concocting bizarre plans to bring Harry back, plans that got more desperate and paranoid every minute that passed by.  
  
He coughed and fumbled with his sheets that had mummified him during the night, trying to stand up. Then something caught his attention. There was an eye, a clear blue eye, that definitely belonged to a member of the Weasley family peaking at him from a slit in the curtains.  
  
He heard a whisper: 'Is he awake?'  
  
Then someone replied: 'Yes!'  
  
And everything changed in a flash.  
  
The drapes were drawn from all sides, the morning sun rushed in, Harry moaned, raising his hand to shield his sore eyes from the light and there was a loud thud as someone landed on the bed. His eyes widened when Ron, who was now on the bed with Harry, hugged him so tight he could hardly breathe and planted a big sloppy kiss on his forehead.  
  
Seamus and Dean were on the bed the next instant, and started jumping up and down on the mattress, hair flying about wildly. 'Watch out!' Harry shouted, when Neville in his yellow polka dot pajamas joined them, but it was too late. The bed caved in and they all landed in a heap of arms and legs on the floor. 'What in Merlin's name is going on?' Harry shouted in panic while struggling to push Neville away who was squeezing himself against Harry, laughing and crying at the same time.  
  
He had to repeat the question a couple of times till finally Seamus took pity in him. He somehow managed to disentangle himself from the rest and stood over Harry shoving a letter under his nose.  
  
'Here! Read this!'  
  
Harry took the piece of parchment and squinted trying to make out the words without his glasses.  
  
  
  
To Mr. Harry Potter,  
  
I am pleased to inform you that the decision to expel you from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has now been declared invalid.  
  
I have received unshakable written evidence proving your innocence over the unfortunate incident. Therefore you will be allowed to continue your studies and your wand will be returned to you before today's classes.  
  
Sincerely yours,  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
P.S Harry, don't ask!  
  
  
  
Harry read the letter ten times before he was finally convinced it was real and not some tasteless prank. 'Fawkes brought it half an hour ago!' Ron explained, his eyes beaming. 'Now get some clothes on' he added, throwing Harry his robes. 'I told Herm already about it, she is waiting for us in the common room.'  
  
'So what do you think has happened?' Hermione asked, when the whole morning party madness was finally over and they were sitting at the breakfast table plunging their spoons into their porridge. 'I really don't know.' Harry admitted earnestly. 'I told you everything. Malfoy just fled from the office, then I handed my wand to Dumbledore and I came back and told you the news.'  
  
'I'm sure Dumbledore found a way to convince the Hogwarts Council. I told you we could rely on him Harry, he would never allow you to get expelled just because Malfoy lied.' Ron paused to glance angrily at the Slytherin table. 'Look at him, posing there as if he owns the place. I'm glad someone finally taught him a lesson.'  
  
Harry followed Ron's gaze and looked at Malfoy. Their eyes met challengingly and Malfoy shot him a look of overt hostility, grey eyes sparkling with malice. Then he immediately looked away and smiled at Pansy Parkinson.  
  
The classes proved to be particularly difficult since Harry hadn't studied at all the night before, thinking he would get expelled, so he soon forgot everything and concentrated, struggling to understand. It was only during dinner that he started thinking about the whole matter again.  
  
Ron was making a comment about the fish pie being too salty, when a huge eagle owl came fluttering through the window. Everyone watched it in confusion, the post was usually delivered in the morning, so this had to be something important. There was a flash of red and half of the students gasped in fear. The owl hovered over the Slytherin table for a few minutes before finally dropping the howler in front of Draco Malfoy.  
  
Harry saw Draco's eyes bulging, he seemed completely frozen in fear and then he suddenly grabbed the envelope that had already started to fume and rushed out. The only explanation that Harry was able to offer to Hermione and Ron later, was that he simply didn't think at all. He just stood up and ran after Malfoy.  
  
The corridor in front of him was empty and dark, all classroom doors were shut and Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Harry walked up and down the corridor a few times and was about to give up and return to the hall to finish his dinner when the voice of Lucius Malfoy drifted, clear and angry to his ears. Harry leaned against the door where the sound had come from, trying to listen. Silence, and then Malfoy's father started screaming:  
  
HOW COULD YOU EMBARASS ME LIKE THAT!... LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE THIS MORNING WITH A COPY OF YOURS... COULD HAVE DIED OF SHAME... FIRST YOU WANT POTTER PUNISHED... SO HARD TO CONVINCE THE COUNCIL...THEN SAYING THAT YOU LIED!... NO SON OF MINE... WHY DID YOU WRITE TO DUMBLEDORE?... HE WAS GLOATING THE OLD GOAT...  
  
Harry was startled. Malfoy admitted that he lied? The written evidence that Dumbledore mentioned was Malfoy's letter?  
  
JUST GIVE ME A REASON... WHY DON'T YOU WANT POTTER EXPELLED... SIMPLY ABSURD... IF YOU WANT HIM IN HOGWARTS TO PROVE THAT YOU ARE BETTER THAN HIM I HOPE YOU WILL MANAGE TO... I GOT FAR MORE IMPORTANT BUSINESS NOW AND YOU KNOW IT...  
  
A pause.  
  
...JUST DON'T EXPECT A FIREBOLT FOR CHRISTMAS!  
  
Complete silence followed. The ringing in Harry's ears was just starting to go away when suddenly he heard a loud crash. Then another. Then another. Glass was smashed on the floor, heavy objects were thrown against the walls. He could sense on his fingertips, how the door vibrated after every crash. Apparently Malfoy was wrecking the whole room. Harry hesitated for a second, then turned on his heels and fled.  
  
'So... So... Malfoy actually wrote to Dumbledore admitting you didn't push him down the stairs.' Hermione managed to stammer after a long, stunned silence. 'Exactly.' They were sitting in the Gryffindor common room and Harry had just finished his narration.  
  
'Well...' Ron commented, 'then Dumbledore must have somehow threatened or forced Malfoy to do it.'  
  
'This doesn't make sense,' Hermione, the voice of reason, pointed out. 'Malfoy wrote the letter of his own free will, otherwise his father wouldn't have been angry at him.'  
  
'I don't understand,' Ron wondered, scratching his head. 'Why did he lie in the first place then?'  
  
'I don't understand either' Harry admitted. 'It seems that for some obscure reason he wanted me punished but not expelled.'  
  
'Well, he wants you punished cause he hates you. And he doesn't want you expelled because...Oh god!'  
  
'What?' Harry and Hermione asked in unison.  
  
'Because he is planning something worse for you! Perhaps your murder...'  
  
'Nonsense Ron. Not liking someone isn't reason enough to want them dead.'  
  
'It's Malfoy for goodness' sake! His father is a Death Eater! And you've seen the way he always stares at Harry, that arrogant, selfish, good-for- nothing...' Rage flushed Ron's cheeks and he was about to explode into a frenzy of verbal abuse when he noticed Hermione's expression. 'Why the long face?' he asked.  
  
'Sorry, I was just thinking about my wand again' she said darkly, showing them the two pieces of her wand she had managed to stick together with duck tape. 'Imagine being a prefect with this thing!'  
  
'Don't worry!' Harry laughed putting his arm around her shoulders. 'We'll get you a new one from Hogsmeade next week.' 'I think I'll go to bed now,' he added yawning. 'I hope the house-elves have replaced my bed already.'  
  
Something made him wake up. As if he heard someone calling his name in the darkness, his eyes opened wide and his whole body tensed. It took Harry a few moments to realize fully where he was, lying in his new warm bed in the Gryffindor tower. The gentle humming of the other boys calm, regular breaths floated to his ears, soothing him and he signed contentedly, sinking deeper into the covers. Then he heard it again, an abrupt, repetitive sound. Someone was tapping on the window. 'Hedwig,' Harry thought, 'or some exotic bird bringing a message from Sirius.' Filled with excitement, he stood up, grabbed one of the blankets, wrapped it around himself and rushed to the window.  
  
It was cold inside the room too, but the world outside the window seemed to have frozen over. Harry gasped, blinking hard a few times in disbelief. Not it wasn't Hedwig, nor some exotic bird outside the window. A thick mist was swirling over the Forbidden Forest, the stars were chips of ice pinned on the black velvet night. And out there, like something imagined, Draco Malfoy sat on his Nimbus 2001, his silver hair whipped by the wind, watching Harry calmly.  
  
The strangest thing...  
  
He was just looking at Harry, without any hate or malice, but without friendliness either. His face didn't convey any emotion, the grey eyes reflected nothing. He was just hovering out there in the cold night air, a pale ghost, waiting, expecting. The mist enveloped him, fuzzying the outlines of his dark robes, but the chalk white face shone radiant against the night sky.  
  
I'm dreaming...  
  
Harry took a step closer, wrapping the blanket tightly around his body, his mouth was gapping open, strange voices were chanting in his ears. He shivered convulsively as his bare feet touched the cold floor. Malfoy didn't move. Harry cautiously raised his hand and touched the window, trying to comprehend what was going on, to prove that all this was not a strange hallucination. The cold was so intense it burned his fingers as he touched the glass and he flinched, biting his lip. His reaction seemed to have an effect on Malfoy, a stab of some obscure emotion shattered the calm expression.  
  
Not real...  
  
The mouth opened, the lips moved, forming two syllables. Harry did not hear the voice speaking, did not hear the sound of the word Malfoy uttered but he knew it, instantly and completely.  
  
'Har-ry' Draco said.  
  
Haaaaarrryyyy...... Haaaaaaarrrrryyyyyyyyyy......  
  
It was enough to break Harry out of his dazed state and shove him back hard into reality. 'Malfoy' he hissed angrily, 'What do you think you're doing out there?'  
  
'Mpf? What?' Ron mumbled, opening his eyes.  
  
'Nothing Ron' Harry stammered. 'Go back to sleep'  
  
'Sleep, yes....' Ron sighed, turned around and fell asleep immediately.  
  
By the time Harry managed to turn his attention back to the window Draco was gone and there was no sign he had ever been there.  
  
  
  
To be continued 


	4. Jealousy will eat you alive

Warning: I have rated the story a PG-13 because there will be an eventual Harry/Draco slash pairing. So please avoid this fic if you do not like the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
Disclaimer: Everything is the property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just a humble dog not even worthy of dusting her shoes.  
  
A/N: Thanks to Obake for beta-reading this chapter and offering so much help!  
  
  
  
  
  
The Untold Want  
  
Chapter 4: Jealousy will eat you alive  
  
  
  
Harry woke up, crept out of bed, fumbled with his pajamas, brushed his teeth, combed his unruly hair, tied his shoelaces, munched his cornflakes, sipped his coffee, argued with Seamus over Quidditch and rushed to the northern tower; all while the vision of Malfoy hovering outside the window circled endlessly in his mind, intruding on him without respite.  
  
He thought long and hard about it, while everyone else was snoring during Divinations and finally decided not to tell Ron and Hermione. He hated keeping secrets from his best friends but he wasn't sure about their reaction. Hell, he wasn't sure about anything, apart from the fact that he would have to confront Malfoy soon and demand explanations. At the same time he hated he idea of having to see him again; the madness of the past days was beginning to tire him. He needed a quiet year and Malfoy as far away from him as possible.  
  
After Professor Trelawney's class he and Ron waited for Hermione, who was taking an Advanced Charms course with Professor Flitwick, instead of Divinations this year. They were going to the dungeons for the second class of the day, Double Potions with Slytherin, when they saw her coming hurriedly towards them, looking pale and depressed.  
  
'Hey, good work Granger!' Blaise Zabini commented as he walked past them, Pansy Parkinson hanging on his arm. He patted Hermione on the back, half- encouragingly half-mockingly, while Pansy just giggled.  
  
Hermione didn't reply or even turn around, she just bowed her head and stared at her feet, pulling at a seam in her robes.  
  
'Hermione, what's wrong?' Ron frowned in concern.  
  
'It was terrible... so humiliating...'  
  
'What was so terrible?' Harry asked, putting his arm around her shoulders protectively. 'Come on, you can tell us about it.'  
  
'Did Zabini do anything to you? Cause I swear if he did...' Ron hissed.  
  
'No, no!' Hermione interrupted him weakly. 'It's all my fault.' There was a sudden spark of anger in her eyes. 'Or rather Goyle's, since he is the one who broke my wand in the first place! Oh, no!'  
  
'What? What?' they shouted in unison, finally losing their patience.  
  
'We were practicing an advanced Levitation Charm and my stupid wand backfired, so instead of levitating my desk I levitated myself.'  
  
A little smile was making its appearance on Ron's face, matching the one Harry felt spreading on his own. Hermione the bookworm, doing a simple spell wrong! The very idea!  
  
'And I was just hovering in the air, knocking everyone's hat off. God, I even managed to kick Dean in the face, till I ended up on the top shelf of the bookcase in the back of the classroom... Are you two feeling all right?'  
  
Harry choked, trying to stifle a snicker. Ron's face was beginning to match the color of his hair, he looked as if he was about to explode.  
  
'And that wasn't the worse part. Professor Flitwick was trying to help me down, and I was doing the charm again and as I was waving my wand around the duck tape came off. The broken piece fell and hit Professor Flitwick straight between the eyes. He is with Madam Pomfrey now, he needed stitches... Hey are you laughing?'  
  
Harry couldn't take it any more. He burst into laughter and laughed and laughed till his stomach ached, his ears buzzed and he was out of breath. He leaned against Ron, burying his face in his shoulder to support himself, but Ron seemed to have trouble with his balance too, so they ended up pirouetting across the corridor in each other arms, tears of mirth rolling down their cheeks.  
  
'Well, well it must be love indeed,' a familiar voice commented and they stopped abruptly, releasing each other.  
  
'Shut up Malfoy!' Ron hissed, straightening his robes.  
  
'What a comeback Weasley, I'm impressed.'  
  
The words were calm and calculated, dripping with cool sarcasm but there was nothing calm or calculated about Malfoy's expression. His bloodshot eyes were torches flaming with hot anger, he was gritting his teeth furiously.  
  
'What's you problem, Malfoy?'  
  
'Nothing Potter. Just commenting over the romantic scene I happened to witness.'  
  
'Any more comments?'  
  
'Not really, Granger. Only that you dubious charms seem to be lost on Weasley, he obviously prefers Potter. But any wizard with some sense in his head would prefer even a blast-ended skrewt over a mudblood like you.'  
  
The viciousness of the assault took Hermione by surprise. Still in turmoil over the Levitation incident she opened and closed her mouth a few times like a fish out of water, then not founding anything to say she hurried to the classroom with uncertain footsteps.  
  
Ron glared at Malfoy venomously, hesitated, then run after her.  
  
Draco and Harry were alone in the corridor. Their eyes met challengingly, opponents preparing for combat, sharpening their knives, grey against green. The stone walls around them echoed with deathly silence and it occurred to Harry that for some reason his presence was making Malfoy uncomfortable.  
  
Draco noticed out of the corner of his eye that Vincent and Gregory were already in the classroom and they were waving at him to join them. He was about to head to their direction when a hand gripped his shoulder firmly. 'Can I be of any assistance to you Potter?' he asked, raising one eyebrow.  
  
'Yes, as a matter of fact you can Malfoy!' Harry snapped and swiftly removed his hand from Malfoy's shoulder when he noticed the way Malfoy was staring at it, as if repulsed by the close contact.  
  
'You can start by explaining what the hell you were doing last night!'  
  
'Last night? I don't think my personal life is any of your business Potter!' Malfoy retorted, equally angry.  
  
'Don't pretend you don't understand Malfoy, you were hovering outside my window in the middle of the night!'  
  
'What in Merlin's name are you talking about Potter? Me hovering outside your window? What do you think I am, an owl?' Malfoy asked in utter confusion.  
  
'You were on your Nimbus. I saw you, so don't try to lie.' Harry said, feeling a lot less confident than before.  
  
'You think I'd leave my warm bed, sneak past Filch and risk the danger of a detention just to watch some Gryffindors snoring?' Malfoy snorted in sincere amusement.  
  
'But I saw you.' All color drained from Harry's face and a drop of sweat trickled on his forehead as he began to realize that all this was probably a huge mistake.  
  
'Did anyone else see me?'  
  
'Nnnoo..' The words had all dried up in his throat.  
  
'I wonder why. You're delusional, Potter you need to get your head examined'  
  
'Why you...'  
  
'You've been dreaming about me Potter, how flattering indeed.'  
  
The color came back rushing in Harry's face, his cheeks suffused with red, he pushed Draco out of the way and disappeared into the classroom with bowed head. Such embarrassment, making a fool of himself in front of Malfoy of all people. Or course it had been a dream, he should have figured that out before.  
  
Draco smiled nervously and turned to leave, stuffing his trembling hands in his pockets. Well, that went pretty well. So easy to fool the innocents, they think everyone lies as badly as they do.  
  
'The Frigus Niveus potion can prove to be rather complicated for the less gifted among you.' Professor Snape commented with a disdainful glance at Neville, who turned red and tried to disappear behind his cauldron.  
  
'You know,' Harry whispered grimly at Ron and Hermione, 'I'm doing my best to like him after the Triwizard tournament but he isn't helping me at all.'  
  
'...the Frigus Niveus potion will turn any object it touches into ice...'  
  
'Hard to believe he's on our side' Ron remarked, measuring carefully the ingredients.  
  
'...add three polar bear hairs and stir three times clockwise...'  
  
'Appearances can be deceiving.' Hermione pointed out. 'I mean Malfoy looks pretty angelic but...'  
  
'Angelic? You must be joking!'  
  
'... two spoonfuls of.....'  
  
'Where does Snape have the Death Eater Mark?' Ron asked, when their potion was almost ready.  
  
'Here.' Harry took Ron's arm and showed him, touching the wrist lightly. He had carelessly dipped his sleeve into the Frigus Niveus potion and a drop fell on Ron's hand.  
  
'Ouch!'  
  
'Oh, sorry Ron,' Harry apologized while mechanically rubbing Ron's hand to warm it up. 'I didn't notice.'  
  
What was going on? They were holding hands now?  
  
The room began to spin, nausea welled up in him and his knees gave way, Draco clutched at the front of his desk frantically, trying to steady himself. His eyelids were wet with some obscure moisture, the lights were slowly dimming. The candles on the walls became ghostly halos, the figures of the students blurry shadows, flickering in the enshrouding mist that darkened his vision.  
  
Don't you touch him, damn you. Don't you dare touch him!  
  
Suddenly the anguish was gone and the hollow emptiness inside him was filled with a hot surge of hate, green poison curdling his blood. How could they do this to him! He closed his eyes imagining himself hovering over the two Gryffindors, an avenging angel, wielding an axe and chopping both of their hands off. He then proceeded into decapitating them, their blood splattering the stone walls; first Weasley, then Potter.  
  
He had to do something.  
  
What he did was perhaps not the smartest of actions but it definitely had results.  
  
He kicked his cauldron with so much force that it broke and the contents were spilled everywhere, splashing everything in sight. All hell broke loose. And what a cold, frozen hell it was. Everything the potion touched, it froze immediately and in the blink of the eye the classroom had turned into a winter kingdom of ice. Long, transparent stalactites were hanging from the ceiling, a thick carpet of snow covered the floor, crunching under their feet.  
  
There were cracks everywhere in the ice and Neville's chair was the first one that shattered under the weight of his body. The potion behaved like a living thing, sneaking to every corner, its icy claws grabbing and smashing everything. All the chairs and desks broke into a thousand pieces and everyone landed on the floor. Ron was swearing in panic, his breath coming out in thick puffs of steam, while trying to peel his frozen robes off his skin. Harry was struggling to save as many of their belongings as possible. The ink bottle had turned into ice and when he grabbed it, it broke, smearing his hands with the dark substance.  
  
Some potion had landed on the chandelier above their heads, which was now creaking dangerously, freezing over. Harry looked around, trying to comprehend what was going on. His eyes focused on a solitary, wraithlike figure that stood erect, unaffected by the havoc that had erupted around them. Before he recognized who it was the frozen chandelier broke and the pieces fell on them like sharp hail.  
  
Cries of fear and panic electrified the air and Harry, clammy with moisture and chilled to the bone, gave up his attempt to do anything. He pulled up the collar of his robes and just stood there, shivering convulsively.  
  
'Who did this? Who did this?' Snape was screaming furiously while making his way through the classroom, leaving deep footprints on the snow carpet. But he stopped abruptly. Because it was evident to everyone who the culprit was. His favorite student was standing in the middle of the classroom, silent and immobile, almost a breathing sculpture, the broken caldron at his feet. He was covered by a thin layer of ice, like an unborn winter spirit protected in its delicate cocoon. His lips were thin and colorless, a little smile had frozen on them. The skin looked so translucent is seemed painted directly onto the skull. Only the grey eyes, sunk deep into the sockets, displayed any life. They were fixed on a certain young Gryffindor who was brushing the fringe off his eyes, smearing his forehead with ink.  
  
'Bloody hell', Snape thought. 'Teenage love. Not again.'  
  
He waved his wand muttering a warming spell. 'Five points from Slytherin,' he added reluctantly.  
  
'My, what a strange day that was.' Dean mused, echoing everyone's thoughts. They were all sitting on their beds in Gryffindor tower, wrapped in every blanket Dobby was able to find in the whole of Hogwarts.  
  
'Just five points from Slytherin!' Ron repeated for the hundredth time. 'If I had done it he would have taken fifty points from Gryffindor!'  
  
'Malfoy gets away with everything' Seamus commented darkly. 'He goes and destroys the whole classroom and Snape doesn't mind.'  
  
'But I don't understand.' Neville leaned earnestly forward. 'Why did Malfoy do it?'  
  
'Just to piss us off probably.'  
  
'But it doesn't make sense. I mean he froze...'  
  
'Just go to bed now Neville' Seamus snapped, still suspicious that Neville was the one who used all the hot water in the shower. 'I was finally beginning to feel nice and warm and you had to go and remind me of all that ice again.'  
  
...  
  
'Ron?'  
  
'Mpf?'  
  
'Is everyone else asleep?'  
  
'Yeah...'  
  
'Are you asleep?'  
  
'No, not any more. What's wrong Harry?'  
  
'Do you remember why Malfoy attached me on the stairs? What did I do?'  
  
'I think you sort of insulted his mother after he called Hermione a mudblood.'  
  
'No, that was before, when we were still on Hogwarts Express.'  
  
'I don't know Harry. It's late, I can't think properly.'  
  
'Try to remember, will you?'  
  
'You fret too much about Malfoy, Harry. All right, I will. Now turn the light off!'  
  
Draco smiled in satisfaction remembering the embarrassment in Weasley's and Potter's faces when he made fun of them outside the classroom; the way they screamed when the potion splashed on their backs. He had managed to hurt them both quite effectively. But he had hurt himself worse in the process, his own cruelty stung back at him like a whiplash.  
  
His smile disappeared and he turned around in his bed uneasily. He had made so many mistakes the past days, first loosing his patience on the stairs, then spying on Potter again at night. He hadn't even fled after waking Potter up, just stayed there calling his name. An act of supreme idiocy, worthy of a Weasley.  
  
'It seems the master of deceit can't fool himself any longer.' The mirror snickered in the darkness.  
  
'Shut up!'  
  
'You've said that before' the mirror commented, sounding supremely bored. 'You knew it would come to this one day, my pretty one. You knew it the moment the bell rang behind your back at Madam Malkin's store and you turned around to see who was coming in.'  
  
'I think I could deal with seven years of bad luck.'  
  
The mirror took the hint and left him alone.  
  
But he wasn't alone: even in the blessed darkness and silence of the dorm Potter was there, hiding behind the door, creeping under the bed, his reflection flickering on the oval mirror, his shadow darkening the marble floor. Draco could feel Potter on his fingertips, Potter in the hollow of his sweaty palms, Potter behind his closed eyelids, Potter under his skin, running in his veins, crashing his skull, gnawing at his mind, bleeding his heart.  
  
Four years he had fought with every ounce of strength in his body, but he couldn't take it any more. And at 23.55 p.m., during the fourth day of his fifth year at Hogwarts, while lying in his bed at the Slytherin dorm, Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, finally surrendered and spoke the three dreaded words.  
  
His voice wasn't a howl or a lamentation, just the purest sound ever born out of despair.  
  
But at last sweet Morpheus was there, to save him from himself and Draco fell backwards, plunging deeper and deeper into the darkness.  
  
Everything would truly begin tomorrow. 


	5. The Tale of the Body Thief

Warning: I have rated the story a PG-13 because there will be an eventual Harry/Draco slash pairing. So please avoid this fic if you do not like the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
Disclaimer: Everything is the property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just a humble dog not even worthy of dusting her shoes.  
  
A/N: Thanks to Obake for beta-reading this chapter and offering so much help!  
  
  
  
  
  
The Untold Want  
  
Chapter 5: The tale of the body thief  
  
  
  
The cold weather of the past week was gone, the day was warm and the sunshine was hot on Draco's back while he strode along the lake with his hands in his pockets. Since no one was watching, he allowed a small smile to play fleetingly on his lips, as he inhaled the rich smell of earth, the clear scent of pine. The landscape was painted in a palette of glorious colors: golden brown the leaves, in their full autumn glory; silver and green the grass, as it bowed before the light wind. Lazy, lazy autumn afternoon.  
  
To a distant observer Draco would appear cheerful, carefree, an innocent adolescent boy. But if the passer-by came closer, he would notice the focused determination of the eyes, the dishonesty of the smile, the graceful and calculated movements of the slender limps: a cold snake sliding on the long damp grass.  
  
The faint smile and the façade of cool composure disappeared when his fingers accidentally touched the small crystal vial in his pocket. His hand clenched tightly around the smooth glass with a crack and grind of bone, clenched and unclenched in time to the beatings of his heart. A week had passed since the Potion incident and his midnight confession but despair hadn't clouded his reasoning and he was careful not to rush into any impulsive decisions.  
  
If his father had taught him anything, it was that plotting and conspiring was just as important as carrying out your plans. Find your opponents' vulnerabilities, use them to break the bonds between them, then strike to kill. Divide and conquer, that was the Malfoy way. And always make sure you leave no substantial incriminating evidence behind.  
  
But now, finally, he had to go. So he turned on his heel and went, even though he knew nothing good would ever come out of it. He walked faster and faster, veered off the path and raced across the grassy fields, running with the intense commitment of the damned.  
  
Harry sighed in desperation and sank deeper into the armchair. The book slipped from his hands and landed with a dull thud on the floor. It was one of these autumn days that carried a scent of melancholy over the lost summer, and it seemed pointless to immerse yourself in thick volumes of dusty wisdom. It was so much more important to watch the intricate patterns the bright sunshine made on the floor behind the latticed windows, or to admire how the polished wood furniture gleamed against the stone walls of the Gryffindor common room.  
  
The common room was almost empty, everyone else was outside enjoying the warm weather, while eagerly anticipating the trip to Hogsmeade tomorrow-- apart from Hermione, who was probably drowning in an ocean of books in the library, preparing the dreaded essay for Professor Binns.  
  
But the beauty of the day wasn't the only distraction Harry was currently facing. The other one was the youngest male member of the Weasley family, who was pacing up and down the common room frowning in deep concentration, clasping his hands or waving them wildly around, as if fighting against an invisible opponent.  
  
Harry retrieved the 'History of Troll Wars during the Middle Ages: Strategy and Effect' from the floor and hid his smile behind the pages of yellowed parchment. Fred, the new Quidditch captain, had invited his brother to a friendly game of two and Ron, who had been eyeing the Keeper position since the fourth year, was taking the whole matter far too seriously.  
  
'Yes...No...Bludger...Avoid...' Ron stammered, jumping up and down.  
  
He stopped suddenly and dropped his arms when he noticed the amusement in Harry's expression. 'I've been talking aloud, haven't I?' Harry nodded. 'I'm just so nervous. The last Gryffindor Keeper was Oliver Wood. How could I possibly replace someone like him?'  
  
'You'll get the position.' Harry assured him with a smile, remembering Ron during their first year. Ron, standing in front of the mirror of Erised, his eyes beaming: 'Look, Harry! I'm holding the Quidditch Cup. Captain of the Quidditch team!'  
  
'I don't want to get into the team just 'cause my brother is the Captain.'  
  
'Fred would never allow that!' Harry objected. He grinned sheepishly and added, 'After all, there's hardly anyone else up for the position. Who do you think we're going to have as a Keeper, Colin Creevy? I guess we'll have to put up with a mediocrity like you.'  
  
Ron tossed him a pillow. 'I feel so much better now, thank you for your kind words... Argh, not the book!' he gasped, and ducked to avoid the leather bound volume of 'History of Troll Wars during the Middle Ages: Strategy and Effect' that Harry aimed at him.  
  
'Shouldn't you be going now?'  
  
'Oh, you're right!' Ron whirled around, grabbing his broomstick. 'Fred's going to kill me!'  
  
'Good luck!' Harry shouted, but his voice was drowned by the noise of the door slamming shut. He shrugged and returned to the book.  
  
Twenty minutes later Harry gave up, thoroughly frustrated. It was obvious that the stupid Trolls had decided to declare all those stupid wars, which led to a variety of stupid problems, just to frustrate the poor Gryffindors students a thousand years later. He was about to start shredding the book into pieces when a light creak signified that someone had opened the entrance door.  
  
Ron walked back in with an unsure expression on his face, as if not quite comprehending where he was. His eyes wandered around the common room, then fixed on Harry and a flicker of some unpleasant emotion chased across his face and disappeared.  
  
'Ron, what's wrong? Why aren't you playing Quidditch with Fred?'  
  
'Huh?' Ron mumbled distractedly, staring at Harry as if he had never laid eyes on him before. 'Fred thinks we should postpone it till the weather gets better.'  
  
'Better?' Harry repeated in confusion as he gazed out of the window at the clear blue sky and glittering sun. Whatever.  
  
'You look as if you've seen a ghost Ron. What happened, did you bump into Malfoy on the way back?' Harry paused, bit his lip and swore inwardly. Ron's right, he thought, I fret over that little creep too much.  
  
'Malfoy?' Ron's eyebrows shot up. 'Funny that you mention him now. No I didn't, I had an even more revelatory encounter. It appears you've been hiding a few things from me, haven't you Harry?'  
  
'Ron, I...' Harry gulped in alarmed surprise.  
  
'I accidentally overheard an animated discussion between two of our familiar ghosts, Nearly Headless Nick and the Fat Friar.' Ron mimicked Nick with an exaggerated bow, then tilted his head backwards and exclaimed mockingly: 'Allow me to commend, dear Friar, that my presence as the Gryffindor ghost is of uttermost significance for the majority of the Gryffindor students. Young Potter, for example, sees me as a true friend and companion. I met him a few nights ago, and as he informed me in confidence, he had gone to the infirmary to pay his respects to Draco Malfoy. I know that not even his dearest friend Ron Weasley is aware of the matter, but Harry trusted me with the information... Oh... Oh, I forgot my oath!' Ron laughed mirthlessly, running his fingers through his hair. 'To hear this from Nearly Headless Nick! I tell you everything Harry, don't I?'  
  
Harry was beginning to understand how Neville felt in front of Snape, when his potion had the wrong color.  
  
'Ron, I'm so sorry,' he tried to apologize. 'I trust you, you know that. It... it wasn't important. We didn't talk at all, he was unconscious. I only wanted to make sure he wasn't wounded seriously. It doesn't matter who Malfoy is, I don't like seeing people getting hurt.'  
  
There was a strange expression on Ron's face, or rather a complete lack of expression, as if he was struggling to conceal his emotions, but the tone of his voice was so bitter, Harry could almost taste it, like ashes in his mouth.  
  
'Don't you hate Malfoy?' he asked.  
  
'Hate him? No.' Harry admitted, trying to be as honest to Ron as possible. 'He tires me. He confuses me. He is always around messing with my life, trying to infuriate me, without reason.'  
  
'How could you be so blind? He is jealous!' Ron's voice thundered, the mask of serenity cracked and revealing anger and dismay.  
  
'Jealous? Jealous of what?' Harry gawked in astonishment.  
  
'Of us. Of what we have together.'  
  
'Ron, what are you talking about?'  
  
Ron had suddenly breached the distance between them and was now leaning over Harry's armchair. His right hand reached for Harry's hair, his fingers brushed against the scar as they glided through the dark strands. Ron's face was inches from his own, so close that Harry noticed for the first time how Ron's left eyebrow had a higher arch than his right one.  
  
'Ron...what are you doing?' Harry started uncertainly, then his eyes widened as Ron's lips closed over his mouth.  
  
Harry was utterly stunned and slightly revolted. Ron's bony fingers were running through his hair, then moved to hold the back of his head firmly in place, his chapped lips were pressing against Harry's, a faint scent of sweat was emanating from his skin.  
  
But somewhere deeper there was something else, some strange sensation that made him feel somehow...  
  
He grabbed Ron's shoulders and pushed him away. He gasped for breath and immediately wiped his mouth with the back of his palm.  
  
'What's wrong with you?' Ron asked breathless, his eyes reflecting nothing but utter surprise.  
  
'What's wrong with me? You grab me and kiss me and then you ask what's wrong? Look, you're my best friend Ron, but you should have asked me about this first.' Harry paused, not wanting to hurt Ron's feelings. 'I mean-- you're not exactly the person I thought I would share my first kiss with!'  
  
'Your first kiss? Potter, I never knew!' Ron seemed quite pleased with himself now and without giving Harry the chance to reply he leapt on him again.  
  
The second kiss was worse. Ron was forceful, almost violent now. The armchair gave way and they both landed on the floor, Ron on top. He pinned Harry to the floor, taking advantage of his larger frame, and grabbed both of his hands in an iron grip.  
  
Harry shut his lips tightly and fought with his knees and elbows not caring any more not to hurt Ron's feelings or Ron himself. All his attempts were unsuccessful and he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen when suddenly Ron yanked his shirt up, and Harry felt cold, claw-like fingers exploring his skin roughly, hungrily.  
  
Harry shivered in dismay and disgust and instinctively bit hard on Ron's lips. He moaned in pain, jumped up and immediately rushed to the door. Gripping the door handle with one hand, he paused and turned around to look at Harry. Blood was dripping from his cut lip, he was trembling slightly, a strange unfamiliar light in his eyes. Then he bolted out of the room.  
  
Harry couldn't even be angry any more; the shock had completely numbed his senses.  
  
Since nothing made sense any more, he would just sit there on the floor and wait for the sky to start falling on his head in great, light blue chunks. He didn't have to wait for long. A few minutes later he heard footsteps approaching the entrance again and he settled back with his eyes closed, waiting.  
  
The door was flung open dramatically and Ron Weasley was back in the common room.  
  
'Harry, you can't imagine what Fred made me do, I swear I'll get back at him one day! But the point is I got--'  
  
'What game are you playing, Ron? I thought Hermione meant something to you! I sincerely don't know if I want to continue being friends with you.' Harry screamed in outrage.  
  
'Harry, what are you talking about? I got the position--don't you understand? I'm the Gryffindor Keeper now!'  
  
Harry paused and stared at Ron, struggling to control his anger. He examined the disheveled hair, the wide toothy grin that was beginning to falter in uncertainty, the Quidditch robes stained with mud, the flushed face. No blood on the lips.  
  
'Hey, did you have a fight with Malfoy? Cause I just saw him, he was running like hell...'  
  
Harry's eyes widened as knowledge came like an ice-cold waterfall. At last everything made sense. Why Ron's eyes seemed almost grey as he stood at the door, why he had called him Potter before kissing him for the second time.  
  
Of course. The polyjuice potion.  
  
'MALFOY!!!'  
  
  
  
to be continued 


	6. Crawling over broken glass

Warning: I have rated the story a PG-13 because there will be an eventual Harry/Draco slash pairing. So please avoid this fic if you do not like the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
Disclaimer: Everything is the property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just a humble dog not even worthy of dusting her shoes.  
  
  
  
A/N: I know I haven't updated this fic for ages, my sincere apologies to everyone. LOTR slash and a sudden Remus obsession are to blame. The next chapter will be posted in about a week. Thanks to Connie for beta-reading this chapter!  
  
  
  
  
  
The Untold Want  
  
Chapter 6: Crawling over Broken Glass  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry just couldn't bring himself to admit to Ron and Hermione that Malfoy had kissed him, but he narrated everything else, with his head bowed and his cheeks flushed, feeling oddly embarrassed. He told them how Malfoy had sneaked into the Gryffindor common room pretending to be Ron, probably wanting to cause friction between them, or to learn their secrets.  
  
Hermione had insisted, as the righteous prefect she is, on informing Professor McGonagall about it, but Harry reminded her of their own polyjuice incident during the second year. They would never find substantial evidence against Malfoy and in addition, would probably end up in an awkward situation, having to explain how they managed to have expert knowledge of the effects of a potion taught only during the seventh year.  
  
Ron had insisted on breaking Draco's face, but Harry reminded him of Crabbe and Goyle. He calmed them both down with promises of some ingenious revenge plan. He wasn't lying, he repeated to himself constantly, he was just concealing a part of the truth. People are allowed to have their secrets, and what was going on between him and Malfoy was a personal duel; it had nothing to do with friends or teachers, Gryffindor or Slytherin.  
  
But he knew he would have to deal with Malfoy soon and the prospect darkened the otherwise pleasant trip to Hogsmeade the following day. And what a beautiful day it was, pale clouds sliding across a glittering blue sky, the light breeze making the tree leaves rustle a joyous tune. On one of those crystal-clear mornings, how the world appeared so true and real… no hidden meanings, no dark secrets, everything just blossoming under the warm sun.  
  
They aimlessly strolled along the narrow streets of Hogsmeade for hours, breathing the fresh air that tasted of freedom, enjoying the way the autumn carpet of brown leaves crunched underfoot. The twins had joined them in their walk but when their footsteps brought them in front of Zonko's they elbowed each other, eyes shining with mischief.  
  
'See you later Captain!' Ron shouted cheerfully, proud of his new-found status as the official Gryffindor keeper. Fred grinned and waved at them before following George into the joke shop.  
  
'Right' Hermione said. 'Now let's go to Ollivander's.'  
  
'No, no, no!' Ron interrupted her. 'Honeydukes first.' Harry nodded enthusiastically while Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes in disapproval.  
  
Honeydukes, holy altar of chocolate, mighty church of candy. 'Yum,' thought Harry. 'Some ice-mice first and a couple of Peppermint Toads. Even Cockroach Clusters, why not? Coconut ice-cream sounds good, and perhaps a few lime green jelly slugs.' Seamus was in Honeydukes too, but he was too busy to notice them, embroiled as he was in an argument with Dean, who insisted that blood-flavored lollipops were only good for vampires, and that Seamus was a very, very sick person.  
  
'Have you bought enough sweets? Can we finally go and get my new wand now?' Hermione said impatiently, tugging at Ron's robes. They agreed and with a sigh of disappointment they abandoned the sugary kingdom, casting longing glances around them before they exited.  
  
The branch of Ollivander's at Hogsmeade was smaller but less dusty and better lit than the one in London. The shop assistant was a young and handsome wizard, all dazzling smiles and courteous bows. 'He reminds me of Lockhart' Ron grumbled in Harry's ear, watching Hermione beam whenever he talked to her.  
  
Half an hour later the shop was a battlefield, piles of empty boxes and half-broken chairs on the floor, wands everywhere. Ron and Harry had almost fallen asleep, slouched on the velvet armchairs, awakened only by the occasional explosion.  
  
KABOOM!  
  
'Oh dear, what a difficult customer' the young wizard exclaimed, wiping his sweaty forehead. He disappeared in the back of the store, searching for a new wand. 'Look,' Hermione laughed at Ron's exasperated face. 'There's no need for you two to waste your entire day here. Why don't you go to Three Broomsticks for a nice butterbeer and I'll join you when I'm done?'  
  
'Are you sure?' Harry wanted to ask but he didn't have time, because Ron had grabbed his arm and they were running like the wind out of the shop.  
  
Three Broomsticks was warm and pleasant, Rosmerta was as pretty and polite as always and the butterbeer was sweet and frothy. But three words from Ron were enough to make Harry suddenly feel uncomfortable. 'Malfoy is here.'  
  
His eyes scanned through the room till they finally focused on a table at the corner, half hidden in the shadows. He first recognized Crabbe and Goyle, then he noticed the slim figure between them, silvery blonde hair glinting in the dim light of the bar. There were quite a few empty glasses on the table in front of them, they seemed to be in a rowdy good mood, Malfoy was narrating something that made them all laugh out loud in amusement.  
  
Blaise Zabini walked in, threw his bag on an empty chair and sat with them. 'Rosmerta, a butterbeer for Blaise!' Malfoy shouted cheerfully and went back to his narration.  
  
Harry stood up.  
  
'Ron, wait here.'  
  
'Harry, I...'  
  
'I want to speak to him alone. Come only if you see me in trouble.'  
  
He slowly approached the table, feeling Ron's eyes boring holes in the back of his head. The Slytherins immediately stopped laughing when he came closer, rolling his sleeves up as if preparing for combat. Zabini waved at him reluctantly but the others didn't stir. Malfoy looked at him for a split second, then he lowered his eyes to his drink.  
  
'I need to talk to you Malfoy.'  
  
Draco raised an inquiring eyebrow and slouched on his chair, exchanging sarcastic glances with Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
'In private' Harry added, trying to make his voice sound firm and confident. Malfoy hesitated, then heaved himself to his feet, calming Crabbe and Goyle with a nod.  
  
'Stay here.' he said with authority.  
  
Draco walked ahead, and Harry followed him outside and round the corner of the bar. 'So' he asked with a faint smile, folding his arms across his chest. 'What seems to be the problem?'  
  
'You know very well.'  
  
'Enlighten me.'  
  
Harry was about to explode with anger, he clenched his fists, trying to control himself. 'Yesterday you came to the Gryffindor common room, after disguising yourself as Ron and you kissed me. You kissed me!'  
  
Malfoy smirked. 'I swear your imagination is running wild Potter. How could I possibly disguise myself as the ugly Weasel? You need to start separating- '  
  
Harry interrupted him. 'I won't believe your lies any more. It was you yesterday and it was you hovering outside the Gryffindor window.'  
  
'You got any proof of that?' Malfoy pretended to yawn and started examining his fingernails.  
  
'I don't need proof. I know. You know. And don't think I won't retaliate'  
  
Malfoy seemed slightly uncomfortable now, losing in poise and Harry felt more confident.  
  
'I know it was you. I know all about the polyjuice potion and its effects. I don't need to prove anything 'cause unlike you I'm not going to call my dad whining, or run to the professors and complain.'  
  
Draco was silent, but his hands were slightly trembling.  
  
'You won't ruin my friendship with Ron, Malfoy.'  
  
'Friendship?' Draco laughed mirthlessly. 'I don't give a damn about your precious friendship. The extend of you ignorance is impressive Potter. You think that's the reason I kissed you? I kissed you because-'  
  
Harry's eyes widened, because he suddenly and completely understood. It was like a puzzle that you'd been toying with for hours, and then you find that single missing piece you'd been searching for from the start, and the picture becomes clear. The gates to his memory crashed down and a thousand images washed over him, a thousand bitter words, a thousand brushes in empty corridors. An enormous and intricate web that finally made sense.  
  
Malfoy hovering outside the window, his expression unreadable, whispering Harry's name. Malfoy staring at him with dead eyes, a frozen wraith in the middle of the classroom. Malfoy screaming 'I'll kill you!', his voice dripping with jealousy and desperation.  
  
'Because you wanted to...' Harry gasped in shock.  
  
'Ten points to Gryffindor. It took you long enough to figure that out. You stupid jerk, everyone knows. Half of the professors know, they've seen the way I stare at you. Even your mudblood friend suspects something. And you have the nerve now... I strongly suggest you get out of here before I hex you.'  
  
'Since when?' Harry interrupted him.  
  
'Since forever Potter. Since forever.'  
  
'But it doesn't make sense' he managed to whisper. Malfoy had been nothing but horrible to him for all these years.  
  
'What do you think love is Potter? Watching the sunrise together, raindrops on roses, butterflies in your stomach? You need to get over all those romance novels you've been reading recently. It's an old scar that doesn't leave no matter how hard you rub the skin, it's cold wind blowing from an open window making your hair rise and your skin prickle. I don't want to hold your hand, I don't want to be your friend, I don't give a damn if you are happy. I want you.'  
  
Harry took a step back, feeling threatened by Draco's words and not knowing why. Nausea welled up in him, he braced one arm against the wall, wishing that all this was some sort of dream he could snap out of. He closed his eyes, waiting for the annoying buzz of the alarm clock. It didn't come.  
  
'I want you to be with me. I don't want you to talk to anyone else. I don't want you to touch anyone else. I don't want you to dream of anyone else. Why should you, when I only dream of you?'  
  
Draco ran his fingers through his hair, his face twitching in frustration.  
  
Despite all the terrible things that had happened between them over the years, he couldn't stop himself from feeling sorry for Malfoy as he stood there lost and abandoned. 'Draco-' he said gently, trying to offer a shred of comfort.  
  
But something in the tone of his voice seemed to offend Malfoy. He glanced at him with red eyes, despair replaced with anger.  
  
'I don't want your pity!' he screamed. 'Go! Leave now! I'll hex you! I'll...'  
  
Without a warning Malfoy was on him, fast as a whiplash. Harry felt himself being pushed against the cold and moist wall, a hot mouth sealed over his, there was a sound of cloth ripping, as Malfoy's fingers tore his collar. He felt it again, the way he had felt the day before, when Malfoy had tried to kiss him after polyjuicing himself into Ron. It was the same but somehow different, for those lips weren't chapped but soft and cold and Draco's skin had a fresh scent of mint and crushed tree leaves, not sweat.  
  
It was there again, only stronger now, that strange sensation that made him feel somehow... It wasn't only anger that catapulted him into action but fear too. He shoved Draco roughly away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 'Let me go Malfoy!' he shouted, ribs heaving with deep, shuddering breaths.  
  
But Draco wouldn't give up so easily. 'You won't deny me!' he hissed, fingernails digging deep into Harry's shoulder. Harry fought to get rid of him, kicking and pushing but subconsciously trying not to hit Draco too hard. He thought he had the upper hand in the struggle when suddenly the back of his head slammed against the stone wall with a dull thud and Malfoy's wand was shoved so hard under his jaw he felt it was going to break into his skull.  
  
He screwed his eyes shut angry and afraid, and pressed his lips tightly, trying to think of a way to get the wand out of his pocket. Fingers wrapped around his jaw, trying to nudge his mouth open, a tongue flickered out, licking him. The lips that were pressed against his own had a strange, salty taste. Draco's mouth tasted of tears. Then the wand was removed from his jaw, the hand that was clutching his shoulder eased its grip.  
  
Something cold touched his cheek, reminding him of the Niveus potion splashing on him during Snape's lesson, but it was only Draco's hand, caressing his face.  
  
'Damn you Potter' he whispered brokenly, the voice of someone forced to crawl over broken glass on his hands and knees. 'Why does it have to be like this?'  
  
Then came a long, long moment of silence.  
  
He opened his eyes the merest of slits. Malfoy was not looking at him any more but somewhere behind his shoulder; a small smile played on his lips. 'Hello Granger' he said. 'Care to join our little gathering?'  
  
Hermione stood there with wind-blown hair, mouth gaping open, her eyes wide with shock. Malfoy hid the wand in his pocket, his hand rested on Harry's face for a moment, as if reluctant to break the touch, then he backed away and stormed off. The dark robes swirled just above his black leather boots as he turned the corner sharply and disappeared. His footsteps still echoed for a few moments, then they died away.  
  
Harry looked at Hermione. She held a long elegant box dressed with crimson velvet.  
  
'So you got a wand at last.' he said weakly, the pain from Draco's fingernails still throbbing on his skin.  
  
'Nine inches, centaur hair, mahogany.' She smiled with a mere twitch of the lips.  
  
They stared at each other in silence.  
  
'Disaster' she said.  
  
  
  
To be continued 


	7. Milk and cherries for you

Warning: I have rated the story a PG-13 because there will be an eventual Harry/Draco slash pairing. So please avoid this fic if you do not like the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
Disclaimer: Everything is the property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just a humble dog not even worthy of dusting her shoes.  
  
A/N: This chapter is more of an interlude, a short break before the wham- bam!, Supernova explosion of the next two chapters. Nothings much happens here.  
  
Thanks to my wonderful betas Obake and Connie!  
  
  
  
The Untold Want  
  
Chapter 7: Milk and cherries for you  
  
  
  
  
  
'So you knew' Harry commented flatly, watching the flames blaze in the fireplace. The yellow tongues of fire twined and leapt in a frenzied dance, licking the chopped wood that crackled helplessly.  
  
He was curled up on the old velvet sofa next to the fireplace, hands wrapped around his knees, enjoying the warmth. The Gryffindor common room was conveniently empty; it was very late and only two seventh year students were there, apart from Hermione and himself, but they were far too engrossed in a game of Exploding Snap to eavesdrop on their conversation.  
  
'I had my suspicions.'  
  
Hermione sat on the rocking chair across from him, her back straight, a thick yellowed volume of Arithmancy rested open on her lap.  
  
'But you didn't tell me.'  
  
There was a hint of mild accusation in Harry's voice and Hermione seemed offended for a moment. Tiny, angry sparks of flame reflected on her eyes.  
  
'What was I supposed to say then? Hey Harry, I think Malfoy is infatuated with you, because he's staring at you constantly and looks as if he wants to strangle anyone who comes close.'  
  
Harry sighed, burying his face in his hands.  
  
'Come on Harry, it's not that bad.'  
  
He glanced at her, raising an inquiring eyebrow. 'Not bad? What could possibly be worse?'  
  
'I can think of a thousand worse fates than this. Failing your O.W.L.s for example. Or having to parade naked across the Great Hall during dinner. Or being forced to watch Snape in his bubble bath.'  
  
'Hermione!' Harry exclaimed in mock indignation. 'I did not need that image!'  
  
She snickered, shrugging her shoulders. 'It can't be that terrible Harry. It's just love.'  
  
He swallowed painfully, his smile faltering at the sound of the word. Malfoy had a different opinion on that matter. 'What am I supposed to do then?'  
  
'Nothing. It's not your fault. It's not his either. These things happen all the time.'  
  
'You know Herm, ever since I could remember myself I longed for something like that to happen to me. Find someone who would love me. So this is supposed to be the answer to my prayers. Guess I should be more careful with what I wish for next time.'  
  
'*I* love you Harry' Hermione whispered, blushing as she spoke. 'Like a brother. And Ron does too, you're very important to him.'  
  
'But it's different. You have your parents, and your Muggle friends also. Ron has a whole bunch of brothers and sisters. I always wanted-' He paused, searching for the right words. Hermione leaned forward earnestly, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the fireplace, nodding in encouragement.  
  
'I wanted someone to belong to. Someone who would need me, who would be mine and I would be his. My father, my mother, I used to think that Cho... perhaps... If only Sirius could be around more.'  
  
'Harry' Hermione hesitated, then she said very quickly. 'Harry, it isn't my business of course, but try not to get involved with Malfoy. Nothing good can ever come out of it.'  
  
'Wh-What?' he stammered, feeling his eyes bulge out of his face. 'Hermione I don't believe you've said that! He's a *guy* in Merlin's name, and an arrogant, selfish, evil Slytherin jerk at that!'  
  
'Well' she smiled with a wide toothy grin, switching to a false cheerfulness. 'Can't disagree with that.'  
  
The next half hour crawled by in silence until Hermione declared that it was late and she was getting tired. She stood up, grabbing her huge pile of books from the table. She staggered under the weight, the ink bottle on top bounced dangerously, a few pieces of parchment escaped from her grip and fell fluttering on the floor. 'Good night' Harry shouted, as she regained her balance and made her way to the girl's dorm with unsteady footsteps.  
  
*  
  
Draco buried his face in the pillows of his bed and clenched his fists tightly, digging the fingernails deep into the flesh. He flung one arm across the mattress, finding only empty space. Alone. Always alone. But then a vision formed suddenly in his mind; dark hair straggling across the pillow, the familiar scar on a smooth face, softened in sleep. Draco could almost feel the sweet, warm breath brushing on his cheek. Then the image vanished in a puff of smoke, as abruptly as it had appeared.  
  
He rolled on his back, kicking the covers away and struggling to keep his mind void of thoughts. Potter and the mudblood must have told everyone about it. Well, at least half of them knew already. Tomorrow he would be the laughingstock of the whole Hogwarts.  
  
It was a surprise to Draco as he noticed how the prospect of public humiliation didn't bother him particularly. Everything was hopeless anyway. The ride on the roller-coaster had begun and he couldn't stop now. Down and down he would go, into the darkness, waiting to smash into the steel pole at the bottom, to break his bones and crush his heart.  
  
He hadn't eaten anything the whole day and Vincent brought him an apple from the dinner table. He held it in his hand for a moment, rubbing the shiny red skin with his thumb, admiring the perfectly round shape. He took a small, reluctant bite. Nausea welled up in him, he chewed and swallowed with effort, feeling his throat prickle with the sour, foamy substance. It tasted like sawdust and ashes to his mouth. It tasted like despair. Bitter, everything bitter.  
  
He wrapped his fingers around the nibbled fruit and pressed, harder and harder, till his hand was soaked with the juice and the apple had turned into mush. He dropped it on the floor and cleaned his sticky hand on the sheets, smearing the fresh white cloth with the yellow juice. He took a deep, shuddering breath that turned into a sob as he exhaled. So he began crying, rocking himself to and fro on the bed, shoulders shaking violently. Gregory mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, and Draco bit his wrist hard, trying to stifle the sound.  
  
*  
  
Harry slept uneasily, waking up often in the middle of the night to the imagined creak of floorboards, to the imagined touch of an invisible hand. So when the knock first drifted to his ears he dismissed it as a product of his dazed imagination. But then it came again, the same abrupt, repetitive rapping that he had heard a few weeks ago. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and tossed the blankets aside, searching frantically for his glasses. His mouth went dry at the thought that it could be Draco Malfoy again, hovering on his broomstick outside the Gryffindor Tower.  
  
He stood up, grabbing his wand from the bedside table. He hesitated, then buttoned up his pajamas, covering every glimpse of bare skin. He run his fingers through his tangled hair, trying to put them in some sort of order. Realizing what he was doing he smacked himself angrily on the forehead and pulled the drapes of his bed aside.  
  
The darkness of the night was thinning, a small cold moon still hung from the sky but the room was bathed in a pale light, the first shy messenger of dawn. A thick fog had come, swirling over the Forbidden forest, as on many autumn mornings at Hogwarts. But Draco Malfoy wasn't there. It wasn't him hovering outside the window but a little yellow parrot, which looked more like an over-sized canary. An envelope hung from its shiny red beak.  
  
Letter from Sirius. Harry's heart leapt in his chest in excitement but somewhere at the back of his throat there was a vague taste of disappointment.  
  
He fumbled with the rusty handle until it gave way and the window opened with a light creak. The little bird fluttered in, followed by a blast of cold air. The parrot started flying in circles around the dormitory, fast as a small yellow lightening. Dazed from the long trip it bumped against walls and bedposts as if surprised to find itself in a confined space.  
  
'Hush, you stupid bird!' Harry whispered angrily. 'You'll wake everybody up.'  
  
The parrot glared at him with black glass-bead eyes, then it dropped the envelope on his head and rushed out of the window. The little yellow form soon disappeared in the pale mists that moved and parted in great drifts and smoky wisps above Hogwarts.  
  
Harry glanced at the letter. To Harry from Snuffles, it read. He tore the envelope with trembling hands and unfolded the parchment. It was only a short note.  
  
  
  
Dear Harry  
  
Everything is going according to plan. I will be at Hogsmeade in around a week. Expect another letter in a few days with further details about our future meeting.  
  
Don't worry about me, I'm well fed and out of danger. Study hard for your O.W.L.s and try to keep your nose out of trouble.  
  
Love  
  
S.  
  
  
  
Harry smiled. Sirius was safe, they would probably meet soon and perhaps he could talk to him about-  
  
'Harry?' a sleepy voice whined.  
  
Harry jumped up, almost dropping the letter from the shock, feeling the blood curdle in his veins. Neville sat up on his bed, his hair in an even worse state than Harry's and rubbed his eyes yawning.  
  
'Did you get a letter? I thought I saw something yellow.'  
  
'It's nothing Neville' Harry said impatiently, stuffing the envelope into his pocket.  
  
'But you got a letter, didn't you? Who is it from?'  
  
'Nobody. It's personal' he snapped in frustration.  
  
'Oh' Neville said, looking crestfallen. His lower lip quivered. 'Oh, I understand.'  
  
Harry immediately regretted his harsh words, he had no right to shout at Neville like that.  
  
'Look, I'm sorry. I'm not myself these days. I got in a lot of trouble recently, strange things are happening and it is all spinning out of control.'  
  
'Is it about You-Know-Who?'  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
'Could I help? I'd do anything to protect you. I know I'm not brave like you or Ron but I'm not a coward either and if you need any help in herbology...'  
  
Harry smiled, but his temples were beginning to throb with pain due to Neville's incessant chatter.  
  
'You're a good friend Neville, thanks. But can we talk about it tomorrow? Go to sleep now.'  
  
'Sweet dreams, Harry.'  
  
Harry didn't go back to bed. It was almost morning, faint rays of light were streaming in through the window. He slipped into his robes, took his quill and ink and went to the common room where he scribbled a long letter of false, cheerful chattiness to Sirius, carefully avoiding any mention of the recent events.  
  
Still bleary from sleep he stumbled through endless stairs and corridors to the direction of the owlery. A soft rhythmic purring and a dreadful stench greeted him as he opened the entrance door. Most of the birds were already asleep, their little heads tucked under their wings. Hedwig didn't seem very pleased when she was forced to abandon her beauty sleep, but got excited when he showed her the letter. It was her first assignment in months, she was getting bored and restless. An affectionate peck on the cheek and she was gone.  
  
Harry yawned his way from the owlery to the Great Hall for breakfast. He lengthened his stride as he walked past the Slytherin table, and stared unseeing at the marble floor beneath his feet. He sat in his usual place between Ron and Hermione. She handed him a steaming cup of coffee while Ron, still lost in dream land, was trying to butter his cornflakes. Realizing what he was doing he shoved his bowl away in disgust.  
  
'Where is the milk gone?'  
  
Hermione pointed towards the Weasley twins. They had gathered all the milk jugs they found at the Gryffindor table and were now waving their wands above them, muttering spells.  
  
'Apparently they're trying to turn the milk into cherry-flavored brandy.'  
  
'I don't want brandy for my cornflakes.' Ron complained.  
  
'But I'm sure that Seamus would love it' Dean smirked. 'It's red like blood and we know how much he loves those vampire lollipops.'  
  
Seamus shot him an indignant look and seemed about to retort something nasty when a dozen owls fluttered in from the open windows, bringing the morning post.  
  
'Malfoy got cakes again' Ron commented in annoyance. 'Spoilt git.'  
  
Harry's heart hammered against his ribs at the mention of the name and he glared towards the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting there, with his head bowed, the silvery hair falling in his eyes, writing something on a piece of parchment. A pile of parcels were lying in front of him on the table. Soon the owls had left, only the Malfoy eagle owl was still hovering over his head. Harry watched with interest as Malfoy folded the note neatly, gave it to his owl, and gestured at the Gryffindor table.  
  
Lazily the huge bird flew across the Hall, while every single pair of eyes was fixed on it. Harry sat up in both confusion and apprehension, as the owl approached him, then dropped the note on his lap.  
  
  
  
I'm sorry  
  
D.  
  
  
  
His mind raced, plummeted, soared. The world span around him giddily. How? Why?  
  
Harry glanced up nervously. Half of the students in the Hall were looking at him, their mouths hanging open, the rest were staring at Draco Malfoy. Malfoy seemed exhausted, dark circles around his eyes, shadows of weariness and suffering. His gaze didn't falter as he stared back at Harry, crossing his arms in a defiant, angry stance.  
  
But there was no anger, no passion, no emotion in the cold grey eyes that were glued on his face. Only complete and frozen emptiness, winds blowing across a barren kingdom of ice. Harry noticed absentmindedly that Draco had lost a lot of weight during the summer, his pale angular face looked more like a polished skull. But still handsome in some abstract way.  
  
'Sorry?' Ron stammered, glancing at the note over Harry's shoulder. 'Malfoy's sorry? For what? Harry, what did he do to you?'  
  
Harry opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a deafening explosion, like the roaring of thunder that echoed from the other side of the Gryffindor table, coming from the twins' direction. Everything and everyone was suddenly spluttered with a white substance. 'Look, it's raining cherries!' Neville giggled as torrents of milk and cherries fell on them.  
  
'Fred and George Weasley!' Professor McGonagall screamed, while Dumbledore was rolling on the floor laughing 'What's the meaning of all this? Both of you at my office, now!'  
  
Harry picked a cherry from his milk soaked hair and popped it into his mouth. It was good.  
  
At the Slytherin table the only person not howling was Draco Malfoy.  
  
  
  
  
  
To be continued 


	8. Give up, Give in

Warning: I have rated this story a PG-13 because of a Harry/Draco slash pairing. So please avoid this fic if you do not like the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
Disclaimer: Everything is the property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just a humble dog not even worthy of dusting her shoes.  
  
Thanks to Connie and Slytherlynx for beta-reading this chapter.  
  
  
  
  
  
The Untold Want  
  
Chapter 8: Give up, Give in  
  
  
  
Harry was on the verge of falling asleep, eyelids lead-heavy and drifting shut against his will. Under normal circumstances Transfiguration wasn't that boring, but today Professor McGonagall had decided to embark on an endless lecture on the dangers of turning a living being into a lifeless object and vice-versa. The imbalance of nature, the ethical question blahblahblah...  
  
Harry toyed with the idea of transfiguring Dudley into a piggy bank for a minute but even that possibility wasn't entertaining enough to keep him awake. The swirl of the dust specks on the rays of bright sunshine, filtered through the stained-glass windows, was beginning to hypnotize him.  
  
He diverted his attention to the study of his classmates. Ron by his side had lost the battle with boredom, his head was tilted backwards, mouth hanging half-open. Harry made a mental note to elbow him before he began snoring.  
  
Parvati was showing Lavender something under the desk, a Divination book probably, or Rita Skeeter's latest gossip column from the Witch Weekly. Dean was examining his fingernails in fascination, while Seamus was trying to make his quill stand on the desk without a balance spell. He failed. Again. And again. And again.  
  
Since the Gryffindors presented no interest, Harry glanced towards the Slytherin side of the classroom. Pansy Parkinson had just received a note from Blaise that made her chuckle and give him a sheepish look. Harry shuddered. He really didn't want to know.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle were snoring the lesson away, while Draco Malfoy was staring at him...  
  
What?  
  
Harry blinked a couple of times in utter disbelief, but the image didn't change. A few weeks had passed since the Hogsmeade incident and Harry was getting used to the idea that Malfoy was... well, interested in him. But he had never stared at Harry in such a blatantly obvious way. He was ignoring Professor McGonagall and her lecture completely, his chair was half-turned towards Harry's direction. He was furrowing his eyebrows in concentration, his gaze fluttered over Harry's face and finally came to rest on his scar. Then he bent over his desk, scribbling something on his parchment.  
  
Harry gulped, feeling the hair at the back of his neck rising up. Was Malfoy writing a letter to him again? No, he wouldn't, not here, in front of all these people. He bit his lip trying to concentrate on the rhythm of McGonagall's dry voice, to glue his eyes on the golden rim of her glasses. But he could still sense Malfoy's gaze on his face and it was very unnerving. If the Professor saw him, Malfoy would get into serious trouble. Look away, you fool.  
  
'What is the matter with all of you today?' McGonagall's voice thundered in his ears, making him gasp with surprise. 'Huh?' Ron mumbled, shaking his head and wiping the corners of his mouth.  
  
The dazed classroom stirred nervously but nobody dared to speak. 'Perhaps it's the weather. It's quite warm for November. Finnigan, would you mind opening the window? Some fresh air might help.'  
  
Seamus leapt up from his chair eagerly and after a short struggle he forced the window open. A gust of cold wind rushed in and there was some mild cursing as everyone's parchment began fluttering around the room like huge paper butterflies. Harry's hair flew wildly around his face, his glasses slipped from the tip of his nose and fell on the floor.  
  
He dropped to his knees and crawled between the desks, searching blindly for them. Luckily he managed to find his glasses before someone stepped on them. He put them back on and then his fingertips touched a piece of paper that was lying on the floor. He picked it up mechanically.  
  
It was him. Or rather a portrait of himself, elegantly drawn in ink and rather flattering. It wasn't complete, a part of the scar was missing. He heard Professor McGonagall muttering a spell, followed by a loud crash as the window shut obediently. Then:  
  
'Mr Malfoy what's the meaning of this? Get back to your seat now!'  
  
Harry stood up, dusting his robes and immediately came face to face with Draco Malfoy. If Malfoy's face ever had any color, now it was all completely drained, he was so pale his skin seemed transparent, as if painted directly onto the skull. His lips were pressed into a tight, bitter line, the eyes were sunk deep inside the sockets. Was he trembling? Malfoy snatched the parchment from Harry's hand, ripping it in two.  
  
'Mr Malfoy' McGonagall repeated. 'What exactly do you think you're doing there? Bring this parchment here.'  
  
Draco didn't turn to look at her. He glanced at Harry, then his gaze wandered around the room, as if not comprehending what was going on. For a moment Harry thought he could hear Draco's heartbeats inside his own chest, he could taste Draco's fear in his mouth.  
  
Professor McGonagall raised her wand and shouted 'Acci-' but before the spell was completed Draco wadded up the parchment, crammed it into his mouth and swallowed, wincing with pain as it almost choked him. Harry sucked in his breath, sharp and scared of what was about to follow.  
  
'Both of you! Back to your seats!' McGonagall shouted, the tone of her voice rising dangerously.  
  
They obeyed numbly. She regained her composure and razor-sharp she added: 'I hope you understand the consequences of your behavior Mr Malfoy. Twenty points from Slytherin for disobeying your Professor. And detention after class. You will mop the floor of the classroom. Without magic of course.'  
  
A tide of whispers rose in the classroom, disappointment from the Slytherins, delight from the Gryffindors. But above all muted surprise.  
  
'Malfoy pushed it too far this time' Ron commented, more bewildered than satisfied as they exited the classroom, stuffing their books into their bags. 'What's going on in that crazy mind of his?'  
  
'He should have known that McGonagall isn't Snape' Seamus agreed. Hermione glanced at Harry carefully while the others spoke, her eyes two narrow slits. 'What was written on that parchment Harry?' she asked finally.  
  
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. The portrait. Strange, how it looked more like him than himself. The toothy smile. The fuzzy black cloud of the hair. The tired eyes behind coke-bottle glasses. Malfoy's elaborate signature at the bottom of the page. And Malfoy's hunched shoulders and trembling hands, while McGonagall roared and the whole classroom laughed. So alone.  
  
Some hand reached inside of him deep, deeper till it found his heart and twisted it in a vicious iron grip and Harry realized he couldn't stand it any more. He couldn't stand Ron's confused face and Hermione's silent scrutiny. Couldn't stand the way they both leaned into each other, instinctively, hands almost touching. The way Seamus absentmindedly pulled a hair from Dean's robes as they spoke. The way that Crabbe and Goyle laughed as they walked out of the classroom, mimicking each other's gestures. The way Pansy and Blaise were blushing as they walked side by side on the crowded corridor, hipbones glued together.  
  
And him? What about him? A tiny flash of envy lit and burned itself out inside him within a second. Then he remembered the strange way he had felt when someone shoved him against a wall at Hogsmeade, pushing a wand under his jaw and pressing cold lips on his own. The envy dissolved into a black hole of panic. No, he couldn't stand any of this, no more, not for another second.  
  
So he turned on his heels and fled while surprised voices echoed behind him but he didn't care. He ran stumbling and tripping on his shoelace and falling and standing up again, his heavy schoolbag drumming rhythmically against his back. It ripped open, the books fell on the floor, and the corridor was flooded with papers, the History of Magic essay he had worked so hard for. But he didn't care, didn't stop, but stepped on them while he ran as if his life depended on it.  
  
Through long corridors, dusty halls and endless stairs, his robes rising around him like wings, his mouth open in a silent scream. More stairs, more corridors and the entrance door and he was outside. Ran to the lake, ran around the lake, one, two, three times. Until he couldn't breathe any more, ribs throbbing with hot pain, his heart pounding as if it wanted to break out from his chest.  
  
He fell down on the ground, staining his knees and elbows with mud, then he collapsed completely, burying his face in the damp soil. What the hell was going on? He calmed down as minutes crawled by in silence and the world fell slowly back into place. He became aware of the dirt on his robes, of the little lizards slithering along the grass around him, of the quiet rippling of the lake and the light breeze rustling through his hair. The maze of incoherent thoughts vanished from his mind, leaving one option.  
  
As if pulled by a summoning charm he stood up and calmly made his way back to Hogwarts, through the same corridors and stairs. He walked past the door leading to the Great Hall, from where the tantalizing smells of dinner were coming, past Blaise and Pansy who were clumsily attempting to snog in a corner, hands and legs in all the wrong places, until he reached the Transfiguration classroom.  
  
Only when he put his hand on the handle and the door opened with a creak did he realize where he was and what he been doing. Draco Malfoy was on his hands and knees, clutching a wet rag, a bucket full of muddy water by his side. His arms were covered in soap up to the elbows, half of the floor was already mopped clumsily, long streaks of soap shone against the marble. Draco looked up, brushing the feathery white-blond hair away from his face.  
  
And froze.  
  
'Malfoy...' Harry began nervously. 'You need any help?'  
  
Draco stood up, with as much grace and dignity as the situation allowed. He didn't speak, only raised his eyebrows while trying to wipe the soap off his hands.  
  
'Hehmm' Harry mumbled.  
  
'What are you doing here Potter?' Malfoy asked acidly. 'Coming to gloat? Coming to have a good laugh on my expense?'  
  
'Hey!' Harry snapped, anger surpassing his uneasiness. 'You were the one drawing me during the lesson. You brought this upon yourself. I had nothing to do with it.'  
  
'Exactly. And I'm the one who was given detention, if you have not noticed Potter. Not you. So I suggest you leave immediately.'  
  
'No.'  
  
'No?'  
  
'No. Don't imagine that I'm going to obey you just like your goons. I never did it before, and will not do it now. And if I remember clearly you asked me to do the same thing at Hogsmeade, but you were the one running away with his tail between his legs in the end.'  
  
'What the hell do you want Potter?' Draco spat.  
  
Harry stopped. Exhaustion overcame him as he realized that they were back in the same terrain, in their customary exchange of petty insults and that all his little hopes were nothing but an invention of the mind. 'I don't know' he said honestly, after a moment of hesitation. His answer infuriated Draco even more. Harry saw the rag flying towards him and ducked quickly with the practiced reflexes of a seeker, but it still grazed the top of his head and muddy soap spluttered in his left eye.  
  
Harry pressed his hands on his face, the burning was so intense he thought he was about to go blind. 'Damn, damn, damn!' he cried out, rubbing his sore eyes, until brilliant patterns rose swirling from the darkness behind his eyelids and floods of tears ran down his face. 'Damn you!' He stumbled forward, hands reaching out blindly and overturned the water bucket, destroying Malfoy's half-hearted attempts at mopping.  
  
'Ssshh...' Draco whispered from somewhere very close to Harry's ear. He almost jumped out of his skin when two hands came to rest on his shoulders, steadying him.  
  
'Sssh... Let me see now' Harry opened his eyes wincing and stared back at Draco, his pale face nothing but a vague white shape behind the blurry curtain of tears.  
  
'It isn't that bad. Don't be a cry-baby Potter'  
  
'What? I don't believe this! You-'  
  
Draco blew softly on his eye, his mouth forming a little o, his fingertips running gently over the sensitive skin under Harry's eyelid. The cool air soon eased the burning away.  
  
'Better?'  
  
Harry blinked a couple of times, then nodded. Draco blew again, on his tear- streaked cheeks till the moisture dried away, then back around his eyes, coming closer and closer. His tongue flickered out, licking the edge of his brow and Harry made a small sound at the back of his throat.  
  
He tried to remain calm but he felt his muscles pulled painfully tight, tense to the point of trembling. Draco said something but Harry didn't hear the words, he *felt* them, as the cold lips moved, forming each sound clearly against his skin. 'Can I?'  
  
Harry didn't say yes. He didn't say no either. He could do nothing but stare as if hypnotized, beyond Draco's shoulder, at the overturned water bucket and the pool of muddy water on the floor. That same water was dripping in his head now, washing all his thoughts away.  
  
The lips moved very slowly, from his eyebrow to the bridge of his nose, trailing over his cheekbone and pausing at the corner of his mouth. First Draco just breathed into Harry's parted lips and Harry did the same until their breathing quickened, almost became a moan. Harry felt warm, flushed with tingling heat and when Draco finally kissed him his knees weakened, giving way.  
  
Draco sighed, sucking Harry's upper lip and Harry leaned back against the wall, searching for something firm, something stable to hold onto. He stood on tiptoe, arms splayed out wide, fingernails scratching helplessly on the hard stone. He let Draco nudge his mouth open, a little at first, then wide.  
  
But then Draco's tongue was in his mouth, fierce and angry, almost choking him, Draco's hands left his shoulders and twined around his back, digging deep into the flesh. Then they moved lower, fumbling with his robes, searching frantically for bare skin, unfastening the buckle of his jeans. Draco's boot came between his legs, kicking them apart, Draco's body was hard against his own, pressing him on the cold wall of the classroom and he could feel... This was wrong, all wrong.  
  
No. His hands came up on Draco's chest trying to jerk away. Draco wouldn't move so he shoved him hard with all his strength and sent him reeling backwards. 'What's going on?' Draco asked breathing heavily, his blond hair a mess. 'What's going on? Don't you want this?'  
  
Harry took a step towards the door. 'This is wrong' he managed to croak. His mouth had gone completely dry, the words were choking in the back of his throat.  
  
'Wrong.' Malfoy repeated, seeming not to understand.  
  
'I-I'm sorry' Harry stammered. 'W-we could be friends.' he added, uttering the last word in disbelief and feeling foolish for saying it.  
  
'Friends' Draco said bitterly, hands dropping lifeless at his sides. 'Who says I want to be your friend?'  
  
Harry took another step towards the door, tearing his gaze away from Draco. Then another. Then another. One more and he would be out of there.  
  
'Who is running away now, Potter?' Malfoy hissed behind his back, the tone of his voice altering from hopeless to vicious in seconds.  
  
'He's just trying to provoke me' Harry thought. 'I should ignore him. Ignore him.' He took another step.  
  
'Who is running away now like a coward? And they say that the Gryffindors are the brave ones.'  
  
'He wants to trick me into staying.' Harry repeated to himself, the words turning into some sort of feverish mantra. Then surprised: 'He wants me. He really wants me. He is trying everything he can.' He could walk away now. And where exactly would he go?  
  
'Are you afraid of me Potter?'  
  
That did it. Slowly, and fully aware that he was probably making the worst mistake of his life, Harry let his hand drop from the door handle and turned around.  
  
  
  
To be continued 


	9. This is how it goes

Warning: Rated a PG-13, due to a Harry/Draco slash pairing. Please avoid this fic if you are not comfortable with the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
Disclaimer: If the characters were mine they would be in a lot more pain. Alas, they're JKR's  
  
A/N: Apologies for not updating for so long, and apologies for not having anything better to offer. I'm aware that there is a time gap between this chapter and the previous, but I hope you can assume what happened inbetween. Nah... I'm just trying to find excuses for being crap at writing romance. I'm not at all happy with this chapter but the next one, where horrible things are going to happen to practically everyone, should be much better. Thanks to Slytherlynx for beta-reading this, without her help it would have been even worse. And thanks to every person who took the time to review, for your encouragement and all your helpful comments.  
  
  
  
  
  
The Untold Want  
  
Chapter 9: This is how it goes  
  
  
  
Harry was having trouble breathing. He had stopped talking some time ago but neither of his two companions had said a word after that. Minutes crawled by in a suffocating pace, as the afternoon hung heavily around the thick velvet curtains of the Gryffindor dorm. The echo of the familiar rumbling noise at the common room leaked from underneath the door, but inside the boys' dorm the air was buzzing with silence and unease.  
  
'Wow' was the first sound coming from Ron's direction, indicating that he was still alive and that the shock hadn't rendered him completely speechless. During Harry's narration his eyes had turned wider and wider and he had leaned forward more and more, until he slipped off the edge of his bed and landed on the floor with a dull thud.  
  
Hermione, who was better prepared for the revelation managed to keep her posture. She stood in the middle of the room, her back straight, hands crossed defensively over her chest, her expression unreadable. But Harry noticed that with every word he spoke she moved an inch away from the two of them.  
  
'This is a joke, right?' Ron pleaded, his eyes glued on Harry's face. Harry shook his head and tried to swallow, but his throat wouldn't work and made a small gasping sound instead. He had tried to prepare himself, imagining all sorts of reactions, but now that the inevitable moment was at hand he didn't want to go through with it.  
  
'Then Malfoy must have hexed you.' Ron continued, his voice beginning to quiver dangerously. 'What did he do? Cast some evil Slytherin spell on you? Blackmailed you about the accident on the stairs again? Got Crabbe and Goyle to tie you up?'  
  
'No, nothing like that.' Harry said, feeling oddly disappointed. Everything would have been much easier if Draco had forced him into that whole mess.  
  
'Then...' Ron coiled himself on the floor, wrapping his arms around his legs, as if trying to shield himself from both Harry and the answer. 'So... why the hell did you kiss him? Have you gone nuts?'  
  
'I don't know.' Harry admitted in complete earnestness.  
  
'Are you in love with him or something?' Ron sounded horrified now.  
  
Brilliant. Just brilliant. Unable to look at their expectant faces Harry stared down at his hands, at the fingers' slight curves, at the pattern of faint lines and veins. There it was, the love line. Short and faint. And the life line, very short, as Trelawney had always happily pointed out. Harry watched in fascination as his fingers began tapping on his knee, almost against his will, in an intricate, obsessive pattern.  
  
He shrugged his shoulders. 'I don't know.'  
  
'Is he in love with you?'  
  
'I don't know.' Harry repeated for the third time, feeling a bit foolish. The nervous tapping on his knee had degenerated into a steady drumming of all ten fingers together, and increased in intensity and speed to become a hammering of nails into flesh.  
  
'Who is supposed to know then? Me?'  
  
'Ron!' Hermione's voice hissed in warning as she graced him with one of her famous Don't-you-even-think-about-it glares.  
  
'Hermione' Ron turned to face her, having lost all hope on Harry. 'Please tell me it's all a joke.'  
  
'Fine, have it your way' she retorted. 'It's a joke. April Fool's day came early this year.  
  
'Really?'  
  
'Of course not!'  
  
'But I've heard of that incident in 1984 when Pancake Day had to move to November because-'  
  
'Oh, Ron, in Merlin's name!' Hermione cried out, waving her arms in frustration and began pacing up and down the room.  
  
'I don't get you Herm, I really don't. Harry has just told us that he...' Ron seemed to have some difficulty in choking out the words '...that he kissed that slimy git and you're acting as if it's the most natural thing in the world.' Ron paused. He opened and shut his mouth a few times like a fish out of water, realization dawning in his eyes.  
  
'You knew about this, didn't you?' His gaze flew from Harry's to Hermione's guilty faces.  
  
'And neither of you bothered to tell me a word. Why should I know anyway? It's not like I'm your best friend!'  
  
'No, it wasn't like that, I-'  
  
Ron shot up from the floor, hands trembling with anger, face flushed. 'Leave me alone then. Both of you!' He took one hesitant step, then broke into a run and fled from the room, the door slamming hard on his heels.  
  
Hermione hurried after Ron, shouting at him to wait. Harry wanted to call out to Ron too, but couldn't find the words to do so. He was having trouble breathing again. He got up on his feet and swayed dizzily, blinking a couple of times. His knee throbbed in dull pain and suddenly the room seemed very small, the floor very close and the bright square of the doorway very distant. He staggered in a swirl of vertigo, refusing to hold onto the furniture as he walked. Halfway to the door Harry gave up and flung himself on the nearest bed, which was Neville's.  
  
He closed his eyes and stretched out still, watching red spangles twist behind his lids while he tried to fight down the nausea. A large, empty sadness was swelling inside him, rising like the surge of the sea.  
  
Harry lay there on his back, motionless, until he heard quiet footsteps approaching, then the rustle of robes and the squeak of the bed as someone sat down beside him. Long hair brushed against his cheek, making his skin itchy. He opened his eyes and peered at Hermione's grim face which was looming over his in concern.  
  
'Are you feeling sick?'  
  
Harry nodded, once. 'How's Ron?'  
  
'He didn't take it very well' Hermione replied carefully, keeping her words dry and clinical, like a deadly dull lecture. 'But I think he is more shocked than angry' she said. 'It might be best if you don't try to talk to him for a day or two, let it blow off. He isn't exactly happy for you.'  
  
'What about you then?' Harry asked, a small dart of fear hitting his stomach. Hermione smiled a sad, lonely, cardboard smile. 'I can't say I'm happy about you being together with someone who refers to me as 'The Mudblood' and takes pleasure in insulting me.'  
  
'We're not together!' Harry exclaimed, rising from the bed as if someone had yanked him by the hair. He wanted to tell her the whole story, but he was so tired of everything today, fed up, unable to offer any more excuses and explanations. Why did it always have to be his fault? He hadn't pushed Draco down the stairs, he wasn't the Heir of Slytherin, he didn't know that damn Goblet was a portkey. It wasn't his fault his hair grew back overnight after Aunt Petunia cut it.  
  
'But it's none of my business anyway' Hermione broke in hurriedly, forestalling any apologies. She glanced at her watch. 'It's time for food, my stomach is growling. You feel better now? Think you can crawl down to the Hall for dinner?'  
  
Harry considered munching vegetables while having to face Ron at the other side of the table, and the thought made him sink back into the mattress and mumble something between a 'no' and a moan.  
  
'Stay here. I'll sneak into the kitchens to steal some fruit and get Dobby to make you a sandwich or two.'  
  
'Mmm...'  
  
'Mmm as in yes or mmm as in no?'  
  
'Mmm as in thanks, mum.'  
  
Hermione bashed him on the head with a pillow. 'Why do I get the feeling that you aren't that sick any more?'  
  
* More than a week had passed, but Ron still refused to talk to Harry. He would say things like 'Pass the salt, please' or 'Have you seen my Transfiguration essay anywhere?' or 'Look, Bulstrode has a piece of lettuce stuck between her teeth' but not much else. So when he finally asked Harry if he would join the team for Quidditch practice one afternoon, Harry hoped it was the first step to patch things up between them.  
  
He was rushing along a quiet corridor, broomstick in his hands when a strange, muffled sound drifted to his ears. It seemed like a human voice, the echo distorted through the stone walls. Harry stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around himself a couple of times, trying to locate the source of the noise. To his left a mahogany grandfather clock was ticking its way to five thirty. To his right there was only the portrait of an elderly lady, who sat on a park bench, pretending to feed her poodle. The dog had a ridiculous pink ribbon around the neck and barked in indignation watching her devour his sausages. No other sound. Silence.  
  
Harry dismissed the thought, guessing it was probably Mrs Norris torturing some poor rat. He was about to walk away when a door was swung open before him, a hand shot out, grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him into an empty classroom.  
  
He was shoved roughly against a wall, the broomstick escaped his grip and fell rattling on the floor, while a cold hand clamped over his mouth, trapping his cry of panic before it escaped his lips. Harry struggled to get his wand out, eyes dilated, trying to get used to the dimness of the room and recognize who or what he was fighting against.  
  
There were only a few faint rays of sunlight slanting through the drapes of the classroom. They spilled over his attacker, who was now grasping Harry's shoulders hard enough to bruise, turning him into a creature of darkness and light, face striped dark and pale. His shadow edged across the room and then crept up the wall like a giant spider. The hand moved away from Harry's mouth.  
  
He sagged against Draco Malfoy in limp relief, heart still pounding, throat still raw with fear. Harry almost laughed into the kiss, amused with his own fears of Voldemort lurking in the Arithmancy classroom, leaping on everyone who walked by, but Draco seemed serious, intense, his eyes screwed shut in concentration. One hand was buried in Harry's hair, holding the back of his head firmly in place, the palm of the other lay flat against the small of Harry's back. His lips were cold and again, as Harry remembered, faintly salty. Malfoy always tasted of tears. His tongue flickered out to lick Harry's bottom lip and then tried to nudge his mouth open, each time more persistently.  
  
Draco pushed Harry's thighs apart with his knee and slid between them, trapping Harry between his body and the wall, until he couldn't move an inch. His hands tugged at Harry's robes until he found that inch of bare skin between the washed out T-shirt and the jeans and traced it lightly with his fingertips. Their hipbones met and talked to each other in their own secret language. And suddenly Harry wanted to cry, without knowing the reason. His mouth fell open and their tongues twined together.  
  
Malfoy's touch was cold, making the hair on the back of his neck rise but the body pressed against his own was hot, alive. Draco moaned in his mouth and started rubbing Harry's hip with the heel of his palm. Harry, who had only dared to wrap his arms around Draco's slim waist was beginning to feel alarmed over the whole situation but at that moment Malfoy loosened his grip and tore his mouth away.  
  
'It's me' he said.  
  
'I've figured that out by now.' Harry replied, a bit breathless. 'You almost gave me a heart attack.'  
  
'I'm very good with surprises' Malfoy smirked with barely concealed satisfaction. 'and you are quite predictable Harry. I can walk right in your head like taking a stroll in the park.'  
  
'Is that so?' Harry asked, slightly annoyed.  
  
'Of course. You thought I was having dinner like everyone else.' Draco leaned against him, brushing wisps of messy hair away from Harry's face.  
  
'Perhaps you should have. You're almost skeletal. Need to eat more.' Harry ran his fingers over Draco's ribs, deciding not to argue about the matter of predictability at that moment.  
  
The adolescent flesh had melted off Draco's bones, through the loose material of the robes his shoulder blades were distinct and articulate like the joints of bird's wings. Harry smoothed his hand over Malfoy's back, feeling the ridges of his spine under the thin cloth. He expected some sort of sarcastic retort but Draco was strangely passive, his back arched against Harry's palm, his breathing quickened, eyes half-shut and unfocused.  
  
'I should go. I can't be late for Quidditch practice. I've upset Ron enough these days.'  
  
'Why? What happened?' Draco asked, but the disinterest in his voice was obvious.  
  
'Well, I told him and you and I...' Harry poured out his account of the past week, deeply embarrassed and flushed all over.  
  
'You told him?' Draco raised his pale eyebrows in question marks, once more alert and aware. Then he started laughing, deep chuckles that came in waves, making his entire body shake.  
  
'I guess you must be on trial for treason now.'  
  
'Ron is my best friend.'  
  
'I'm sure he is. I'm also sure that the Weasel is pushing pins through a voodoo doll with my name on it right now. Or possibly stealing some skele- gro to lace my morning coffee.' Tears of mirth were rolling down Malfoy's cheeks. 'This is too precious. First Gryffindor losing to Slytherin in Quidditch this year and now this. Must be too much for the Weasel to bear.'  
  
'What are you talking about, Malfoy?' Harry said, tight-lipped with anger about the mocking nickname. 'When did Gryffindor lose? The Quidditch games haven't even began.'  
  
'Well, Slytherin is going to win anyway. Or do you think I'm not good enough for you?' Draco stared at him through slitted eyes.  
  
Harry, who was on the brink of losing his patience, decided it was his turn to smirk. 'Let's see if you manage to sneak into the finals first. You'll be lucky if you get out of tomorrow's match unscathed.'  
  
'What? Against Hufflepuff? With Fitch-Fletchley as Captain?' Draco pronounced Justin's name in disgust, underlining his words with a graceful, dismissive gesture. 'The Snitch will be in my hands in ten minutes.'  
  
'I really should be going now' Harry muttered, knowing he sounded completely fed up. His words had an unexpected effect. Malfoy paled, the lines on his face locking like a statue. Harry was reaching out to grab his broomstick from the floor when a firm hand on his shoulder whirled him around. Harry opened his mouth to speak but no words came out as Draco tipped Harry's head back with his fingertips and buried his face in the curve of Harry's neck. He kissed his throat, nails boring deep in the base of Harry's spine.  
  
'Wh-what?' Harry stammered as he tried to decipher the word that Draco was tracing on his skin, something that sounded halfway between an endearment and a threat. Harry shut his eyes as Draco continued repeating feverishly the same, meaningless word, lips and tongue brushing against Harry's temple.  
  
'Please' Draco was saying, but Harry didn't know what he was asking for and so he didn't answer.  
  
At last he moved away, arms dropping from Harry's shoulders and falling limp at his sides.  
  
'I'll see you later then' Harry said.  
  
Draco took a step back, enveloped in the darkness of the classroom.  
  
'You know that we belong together, don't you?'  
  
Harry's head snapped up. It wasn't a question or a plea. The tone of Malfoy's voice was cold and distant, as if it was something he had decided long ago, and whatever Harry said would make no difference.  
  
There was silence.  
  
'I have to go now.'  
  
'Will you come to the game tomorrow?'  
  
'Yes'  
  
'Who will you cheer for?'  
  
There was another long minute of silence. Then the door closed behind Harry with a soft 'click'. Outside at the corridor the old lady was snoring on the bench, poodle on her lap. The clock stroke six. Harry sighed. He was already late for practice.  
  
To be continued 


	10. Look back in Anger

Warning: Rated a PG-13, due to a Harry/Draco slash pairing. Please avoid this fic if you are not comfortable with the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
Disclaimer: If the characters were mine they would be in a lot more pain. Alas, they're JKR's  
  
A/N: I had to cut this chapter because it was getting too long, so unfortunately not everyone is getting hurt here as I promised. Such a pity. Thanks to my betas, Slytherlynx and Ayla Pascal for doing such a great job, struggling with my grammar, characterisation and melodramatic tendencies. And thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter.  
  
  
  
The Untold Want  
  
Chapter 10: Look back in anger  
  
  
  
The Quaffle had already been released and Slytherin had scored thirty points against Hufflepuff when Harry finally reached the Quidditch field. Three hours in detention - apparently Neville's cauldron exploding was, in some obscure way, all his fault - had left him with an aching back and sore hands. Cleaning the girls' bathroom was not an easy task, especially with Moaning Myrtle raining tears over him the whole time.  
  
Hermione had saved him a place by her side and as Harry dropped on the empty seat, he noticed Ron a few rows behind, chatting with Seamus and Dean. Sensing Harry's gaze on him, Ron looked up, nodded once, then went back to his conversation.  
  
'He'll get over it,' Hermione said, squeezing Harry's hand encouragingly.  
  
'You think so?'  
  
She flashed him a nervous smile that died before reaching her eyes. Harry sighed.  
  
'How are things between you and Malfoy?'  
  
'Strange. I'm not sure what's going to happen.'  
  
'So are you two together then?'  
  
'Well, we meet. I think about him.' Not an adequate answer and Harry was grateful that Hermione didn't comment on it.  
  
First game of the year and the crowd was in a rowdy good mood; the stands were full and pulsing with flags of yellow and green. The Quidditch Pitch had become a living being, consisting of a sea of heads, bopping up and down to the rhythm of the game and countless arms, rising and falling like tree branches blown by violent winds.  
  
But there was no wind today, not even a breeze to rustle the grass blades; the ground was dry, good weather for Quidditch. The light was dull though, as if it fell aslant through glass. Rainclouds swirled at the edge of the horizon; a lead-coloured scar in the sky that thinned out into a haze above Hogwarts. The air crackled with electricity and a scent of wood-smoke drifted over the field. Somewhere, a storm was brewing.  
  
Suddenly everyone at the Gryffindor stand leaped to their feet and Harry almost fell off his seat, as Hermione next to him started clapping wildly.  
  
Hannah Abbot, with the Quaffle locked firmly under her elbow, was zooming towards the Slytherin loops, while Blaise Zabini flew close behind her. She was an arm's length away from her target when she dove abruptly, avoiding a Bludger, which struck Blaise instead. He brought both hands to his face, rubbing his bruised jaw and his broomstick bounced out of control, hitting the Slytherin Keeper in the stomach. Hovering under them, Hannah shot the Quaffle through the loop with complete ease.  
  
Harry jumped up, cheering wildly with the rest of the crowd, a cheer that turned into laughter when Ernie MacMillan attempted a clumsy barrel roll to show his enthusiasm that almost knocked him off his broomstick.  
  
At that moment Harry caught a blur of silver and green movement to his left and the next thing he knew was that the front rows of Gryffindors had thrown themselves under their seats as Draco Malfoy dove headlong into their stands. Harry was the only one still standing when Draco swerved and flew so close that Harry felt the edges of Quidditch robes brushing against his forehead.  
  
A little smirk, a flash of grey eyes and he was gone again, soaring up in the skies.  
  
'Just look at Malfoy showing off,' Ron grumbled to Seamus and Dean as they scrambled to their feet, dusting their robes. 'He acts as though he is the Hogwarts celebrity. Draco Malfoy, the star of Slytherin.'  
  
'Harry will show him a trick or two when they play against Gryffindor.' Seamus commented, his teeth chattering from the Ice Mice he was chewing.  
  
But then Lee's voice roared, magically amplified, across the whole field, drowning Ron's reply. 'The Snitch! The Snitch has been sighted!'  
  
Harry's head whipped around and he leaned his elbows on the railing eagerly, wishing he had remembered to bring his omniculars with him. Justin was rising, his Cleansweep 7 almost vertical to the ground, hands reaching out frantically for the flash of gold that was gleaming above, inches away from his fingertips. Draco was behind but moving swiftly, the distance between them closing due to Malfoy's superior broomstick.  
  
They dove in one fluid motion, racing alongside, then Draco swerved away for a second, just to move back in and crash his Nimbus 2001 against Justin's side. One, two, three times. Justin managed to keep his balance but didn't dare loosen his grip on the broomstick to grasp the Snitch. He looked like a helpless child, his face a blotch of white, paralysed in a grimace of fear. But he managed to stay ahead of Malfoy and the winged ball seemed about to land on his lap.  
  
'Hufflepuff will win this time,' Harry thought, a bit surprised. Then Draco covered the distance again, locking sides with Justin. He raised his arm and his elbow hit Justin's jaw with a precise, calculated movement. Justin lost his balance and fell. He managed to grab hold of the edge of his Cleansweep with one hand and dangled in the air, swinging like a pendulum. Draco caught the Snitch.  
  
He raised his fist and the bewitched ball was there, trapped firmly between his fingers. He could have easily helped Justin by his side, who was struggling to climb back on his broomstick. But he didn't. Justin's hand slipped and he fell, plummeting headfirst towards the ground.  
  
First there was silence. Then the first crack of thunder, as rainclouds jerked across the sky, towering above Hogwarts in a clot of black shadow. Then the dull thud of Justin's body hitting the ground. Then Madam Hooch's whistle split the air in two, indicating the end of the game. Silence again. The annoying 'click' of Colin's camera.  
  
And slowly the roar of the audience rose, deep and threatening, like a wave, which starts small in the womb of the ocean, and grows and grows until it crashes on the shore. The angry flood of voices washed over Harry, the shouts of triumph from Slytherin, the boos and threats from the other three houses, rendering him blind and deaf and mute. At the Ravenclaw stands, Padma Patil fainted.  
  
Harry didn't know which sight was more terrifying. Justin unconscious on the ground and blood, blood everywhere, blackening the earth, as Madam Pomfrey rushed to his aid, immediately conjuring a stretcher. Or Draco Malfoy on his Nimbus 2001, silhouetted against a sky of boiling blackness, screaming victoriously at the coming storm. His arms were open wide and sudden gusts of wind made his robes flap and whipped his pale hair upwards. He whirled his broomstick around, eyes searching at the direction of the Gryffindor students. Their gaze locked together, and Draco smiled at him. He opened his hand and the Snitch flew away in dazed circles, the golden wings crumbled.  
  
It started to rain. A vague feeling of despair descended upon Harry and came to sit quietly on his shoulder. One by one professors and students left the stands, forgetting their triumph and their dismay. Madam Pomfrey must have got Justin to the hospital wing by now, while Malfoy was carried away on the shoulders of exultant Slytherins. He kept looking back over his shoulder.  
  
Hermione touched Harry's arm, said something, but he couldn't make out the words because there was this strange, high-pitched sound ringing in his ears. He just stood there, hands gripping white-knuckled on the railing until all noise and movement died down. Water swirled around his boots and the raindrops hammered down on him, soaking his robes, plastering his hair on his forehead, splashing into his mouth and eyes. The rain drizzled on the abandoned stands, scattered with badges and flags and the occasional broken umbrella.  
  
With the corner of his eye, Harry caught a glimpse of red beside him. Ron sneezed.  
  
'H-how could he do something like that?' Harry managed to ask after a few minutes.  
  
'But Harry,' Ron's bewildered voice seemed to come from a great distance, like the echo of a half-forgotten life. 'What did you expect? He is Draco Malfoy after all.'  
  
'Malfoy.' Harry repeated the name as if he finally understood. But he didn't. He took off his glasses and tried to wipe the rain-streaked lenses clear. 'Let's go,' he said.  
  
Then the rain turned into snow.  
  
*  
  
After a long conversation with Ron, Harry lay awake for the rest of the night, listening. The windows of the Gryffindor tower were shuttered fast, but he could still hear the wind gusting through the trees, picking up dead leaves and soggy twigs and beating them against the outside walls. There was the sound of hail rattling on the roof and finally the deep stillness of snow all around Hogwarts.  
  
When he rose from bed, the view out of the window was a world of winter, painted only in shades of white. At the Forbidden Forest the tree branches spread spiky fingers into the sky and the frozen black trunks gave the appearance of a fortress as they clustered together. Everything looked different.  
  
On tiptoe and trying to make as little noise as possible, Harry took his glasses from the bedside table and pulled his robes on. While he was fumbling with his shoelaces, Neville stirred in his sleep and mumbled something like 'duck!' or 'drunk!' in a thick voice. Harry froze but Neville didn't say anything else and soon he was snoring happily again.  
  
Harry stopped by the hospital wing to check on Justin but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let him in.  
  
'He drank half a bottle of Extra yuck! medicine yesterday and three pints of chocolate milk to wash down the taste. He is sleeping like a log now and I don't want you to wake him.'  
  
'But will he be alright?'  
  
'Harry,' Madam Pomfrey's voice became impatient, as she waved her arms up and down like a gigantic angry owl. 'At least three dozens of Hufflepuffs tried to sneak into his room during the night. Every hour, I had to send another bevy of girls away. I haven't slept a wink.'  
  
'But Madam Pomfrey, please, if you could just tell me.'  
  
'He strained his ankle, broke both arms and a couple of ribs but the medicine will take care of that. He'll only have a few scratches and bruises and possibly a stomach ache from all the sweets. There are more chocolate frogs and Bertie Bott's Beans by his bed than in Honeydukes' cellar! Now go and get some breakfast, Harry!'  
  
Hogwarts was thick with silence in the early morning and there was nobody in the corridors to see Harry, as he worked his way down the endless flights of stairs to the entrance. He walked outside and immediately the frost bit into his face, his hands. He shivered and re-adjusted the scarf around his neck, hiding mouth and nose behind the coarse wool.  
  
The storm had come down fierce overnight, clothing everything in a blanket of crispy snow but the cloud cover above had evaporated and the sunbeams were sharp like razorblades. The morning stroll proved to be quite a complicated affair and Harry moved slowly, his feet sinking deep into snow with every step he took. The surface of the Hogwarts lake was murky and as Harry walked by a pale tentacle rose from the waters, snatched a floating tangle of driftwood and sank back again. Where would the Merpeople go in the winter? Would they freeze when the lake froze too? Or would they sink to the quiet depths and fall asleep, waiting for spring?  
  
He toyed with the idea of visiting Hagrid; he could see the gamekeeper's hut, the roof all snow-powdered and smoke snaking out of the chimney, but it was a bit too early in the morning for huge amounts of rock cakes and treacle fudge.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, enjoying one perfect moment of solitude, just himself under the cobalt sheen of the sky. But Hogwarts was waking up, curtains moved, the distant sound of doors opening, voices. Every student glancing out of the window was bound to notice Harry, as he stood out from his surroundings, the black robes creating a start contrast to the whiteness around him.  
  
He didn't have to wait for long. Footsteps behind him, their pace quickening as they came closer and then a voice echoing surprise: 'Harry?'  
  
He turned round. Malfoy was approaching carefully, as if reluctant to destroy the untrampled carpet of snow with his boots. 'What are you doing out here in the freezing cold?' he asked, breath steaming out of his mouth.  
  
'I felt like going for a walk.'  
  
Draco looked baffled for a moment and it was the oddest expression, completely alien on his face. Then he was himself again. 'I wanted to see you yesterday but I couldn't escape the celebration party at the dungeons. My presence as the Quidditch Captain was necessary.' Draco laughed, narrowing his eyes. 'But I missed you. I really want to kiss you now.'  
  
Harry's hands were rising towards Draco, but he wasn't sure if they were planning to pull him closer or strangle him. He jammed them both into his pockets, clenching the fists.  
  
'It might not be a good idea though,' Draco continued, quite oblivious. 'Everyone can see us from the windows.'  
  
'Yes,' Harry replied slowly. 'Not a good idea at all.'  
  
'On the other hand it's the perfect opportunity to congratulate me on yesterday's success. If you do decently in the match with Ravenclaw you might be able to face me in the finals.'  
  
Harry dug his nails into the palms and started counting, trying to control the anger that was bubbling up inside. One... two. three. By nine, Draco seemed to realise that he wasn't getting any praise.  
  
'What's the matter?'  
  
'H-how could you do something as horrible as that and not even care?' Harry cried out, abandoning all attempts at self-control.  
  
'Like what?'  
  
'Like throwing Justin off his broomstick! Like almost killing him!'  
  
'Quidditch is a brutal sport. If the mudblood can't deal with it he should stay on the ground and play chess with the Weasel. I caught the Snitch, didn't I?'  
  
'I don't believe this! You could have killed someone and all you care about it is the bloody Snitch!' Inside Harry's pockets, the fingers were tearing through the thin fabric.  
  
Draco seemed angry too, eyes gleaming dangerously, but he managed to maintain a more composed attitude, not a single wisp of hair out of place. 'What did you expect Harry? I'm not a Gryffindor. I play to win.'  
  
'And to think that I fought with Ron for you. I defended you to Hermione. I thought you were different.'  
  
'So that's what it's all about,' Draco replied calmly, his voice dripping with malice. 'The kind-hearted Potter always giving the others a second chance to prove their noble intentions. Of course I'm not different. I'm perfectly happy being who I am.'  
  
'You're right,' Harry said, realisation striking him like a knife. 'You're right. It's not your fault. It was my mistake from the start.'  
  
Draco grabbed Harry's arm, fingers closing tightly around the wrist. 'What the hell are you talking about?'  
  
'If you don't let go of my hand now Malfoy, I'm going to hex you from here to Bulgaria. And I fought with much better wizards than you in a duel.'  
  
Draco dropped his arm and for a moment neither of them moved. Mentally, they were circling each other like old enemies, checking the sharpness of their weapons.  
  
'Don't you understand,' Draco said, 'that only you and I are worthy of each other? No one else matters.'  
  
'Of course they do. Ron matters to me. Hermione matters. Justin matters. I'm not better than anyone else Malfoy, and you sure aren't either.'  
  
'You can't walk out of this Harry.' Draco's voice was steady, his eyes unflinching, but the trembling hands betrayed him. 'Not after all I've done for you.'  
  
Harry gaped at him in astonishment. 'What have you ever done for me?'  
  
'Do you know how many nights I spent flying outside the Tower just to watch you sleep? The summers I wasted counting the days backwards? The times I cursed your stupid friends because they could touch you and I wasn't allowed to? I won that game for you. What would you have thought if I had lost to Fitch-Fletchley of all people?'  
  
Harry opened his mouth to realise he had run out of words long ago.  
  
'I'm telling you I need you, I'm telling you I'm in love with you and all you can do is just stand there, gawking at me like an idiot?' Draco hissed, his mouth twisted in a mixture of rage and fear. 'Like you don't feel the same?'  
  
'I don't.' It was remarkably easy to say this.  
  
'You're lying.'  
  
'No.'  
  
'Lie then. Please.' Draco was pleading now and the last shreds of Harry's anger dissolved into a black hole of helplessness.  
  
'No. We're through.' This was the moment when he had to turn round and walk away, slamming the door behind. But there was no door this time and no point in this endless repetition, since every step he took away from Draco only brought him closer the next time. So he just stood there and didn't move, even when Draco approached him until their noses almost touched, close enough to kiss. Harry tried not to blink under Draco's dull and lifeless gaze. 'I hate you,' he said. 'I'm going to kill you.'  
  
By the time Harry remembered when he had heard those same words before Draco had turned on his heel and fled, running across the grounds without a backward glance. Then came another perfectly empty moment of solitude for Harry, somewhere between the snow and the sky.  
  
But only one, just before the first blow hit the back of his neck. A hand yanked at his hair, whirling him around as a second punch landed on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Harry gasped for breath and tried to get his wand out but another of his attackers had come upon him from the rear, grabbing his shoulders. He couldn't even lift his hands to protect his eyes, as a fist of lead hit his face, smashing his glasses. The frame fell on the snow and shards of glass dropped into his collar.  
  
Harry blinked dazedly into a blurry world of pain and sank his teeth into the first thing he found, which was Crabbe's shoulder. A yelp of surprise and his arms were suddenly free but it was impossible to fight when everything around him was hazy, silhouettes enveloped in a veil of fog. 'Getting your goons to beat him up!' Ron was screaming -but where had Ron come from?- 'Malfoy, you coward!'  
  
Perhaps Draco was going to kill him after all was Harry's last thought. Then the fist hit his face again, smashing two teeth, filling his mouth with blood, shattering that last thought into a thousand fragments. His legs buckled and he felt himself falling, staining the snow red.  
  
But there was a voice, a very familiar voice somewhere, saying: 'Petrificus Totalus!'  
  
The night fell inkily into Harry's mind.  
  
  
  
To be continued 


	11. The windows and the sky

Warning: Rated a PG-13, due to a Harry/Draco slash pairing. Please avoid this fic if you are not comfortable with the idea of a same sex romantic pairing.  
  
Disclaimer: If the characters were mine they would be in a lot more pain. Alas, they're JKR's  
  
A/N: Back after a long absence. Three more chapters to go and I'm finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Not much Draco in this chapter but trust me, you'll get more than enough of him in the next three. Thanks as always to my betas, Slytherlynx and Ayla Pascal and thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter, your feedback means a lot to me. 

  
  
  
  
The Untold Want 

Chapter 11: The windows and the sky.

It would be unfair to consider Vincent Crabbe evil or stupid, though one could call him simple-minded without hurting anybody's feelings. 

Vincent had his own definition of the world. The universe was clearly divided into the things he liked and the things he didn't like, with no middle ground. He didn't like things that were complicated, difficult to understand, things that made no sense. He also disliked everything that involved extreme pain, spinach, Professor McGonagall, formal dressing or things that just smelled bad. 

The things he liked were… well, simple things. Pumpkin pie. Pumpkin juice. Falling asleep on the sofa, knees spread to the warmth of a blazing fireplace. Presents of any sort. The tingling feeling on his spine as the Christmas vacations approached. He liked his cat too, and tortured the poor thing to no end but always fed her sweets afterwards, so she would come back and he could pester her some more. He enjoyed Care of Magical Creatures, sharing Hagrid's enthusiasm for everything that had claws, fangs, scaled skin and could spit out fire or poison. He liked Unicorns also, they were pretty.

He liked Draco Malfoy too, of course, who was clever and well-dressed and perfect at everything. There was no question Draco didn't know the answer to, no spell he couldn't cast and always helped Vincent out with his Transfiguration essay, but Greg was his best friend in the world and nothing would ever change that. 

Draco had been avoiding them the past weeks, Vincent couldn't understand what was wrong, but he constantly seemed to have some urgent matter to deal with. He and Greg had started to hang out with Blaise and Pansy, but Blaise liked to joke and laugh at their expense and Pansy's flowery perfume made him sneeze, so it wasn't half as fun with them as with Draco.

Vincent was well aware of the fact that they weren't allowed to bother Draco when he wanted to be alone, but he knew that if Draco was in danger, it was their duty to rush to his aid. So when he glanced out of the frosty window in the morning and saw Draco and Potter shouting at each other out in the snow, he realised something fishy was going on. 

He called out at Greg and together they tumbled down the stairs, knocking down everything in sight – armours, portraits, first years – as they rushed outside. Draco had vanished by the time they got out of the gates, only Potter was still there, standing quietly in the snow with his face in his hands. That red-haired Gryffindor- the Weasley- had also come running from the other end of Hogwarts and was about to reach Potter but they had got to him first. Vincent let Greg take care of the Weasley while he grabbed Potter and drove his fist straight into that stupid face. 

He broke Potter's nose and that was great, but not too great 'cause his knuckles ached as well and shards of Potter's broken glasses bit into Vincent's palm.

So far, so good. But what happened next Vincent never quite understood. It was a confusing moment, even more confusing than the time Blaise told him that the wrapping of chocolate frogs wasn't edible. He didn't understand why Draco, who had come running back to them, didn't seem pleased at all. Why he had shouted: 'What have you done, you imbeciles?' face twisted in rage. Why he waved his wand, just at the moment when Vincent had finally managed to knock Potter unconscious and said that strange spell. 

Vincent fell backwards on the snow carpet, stiff-limbed, hands glued to his sides, ankles locked together. He blinked at the empty winter sky above, feeling sad and not understanding anything at all.

*

His head was swimming. He couldn't open his eyes. Harry was slowly becoming aware of himself and his surroundings. He was lying on a bed, suffocating under the covers which were pulled up to the tip of his nose, his neck tense from being awkwardly propped up with too many pillows. Each finger and toe was present and accounted for and each wriggled in command. His lips were smeared with the sticky sweetness of chocolate but at the back of his throat, the taste was sour. 

It took him a few more minutes to realise that the echo of voices floating around him, slicing through the lukewarm comfort of sleep, belonged to two particular people. Draco and Ron. They were discussing something, but the meaning of their conversation escaped him, the words melting together into a steady hum. Draco had asked a question and Ron was replying, coldly but civilly. 

But Harry couldn't open his eyes; not even when he felt cold fingers brushing his cheek, followed by a warm breath, moist against his jaw. There was a noisy squeak of bedsprings.

'Relax, Weasley, lie back down. I'm not going to hurt him.'

'You're not even sure of that yourself, Malfoy.' 

A numbness heavy like lead was creeping over Harry's body. The only memory his mind retrieved while speeding towards oblivion was the image of Draco, with his chalk-white face, standing in the middle of all that winter. Harry had told him, 'I don't need you,' and Draco shouted back, 'You're lying to me!' 

He didn't want to fall asleep again, he wanted to wake up, to stop Draco from leaving and tell him that he had been right. He had lied. He tried to open his eyes but saw only darkness, and soon tumbled down again into oblivion. 

*

Harry slowly emerged from the white nest of bedclothes and rubbed the sleep from the corner of his eyes. The room was drenched in butter-gold sunshine; a warm ray of light fell across his back, stroking the skin. He could sense someone else's presence in the room with him, but couldn't make out who it was, for he was blurry-eyed and still drowsy from sleep. He reached out blindly at the direction of the bedside table and his hand closed around the rim of his glasses after a moment of fumbling. 

It was Ron, with a blackened eye and a split lip, grinning at him from a bed at the other side of the infirmary. 

'Ron?' 

'Hey!' His smile got even wider, stretching from one corner of his mouth to the other. 'Awake at last. You've been out for almost the whole day. You look like hell, Harry.' 

'You're not exactly a beauty yourself,' Harry mumbled, bringing a hand to his cheek. Under his fingertips, the skin felt swollen and pockmarked with scars. 

"Ow."

'Madam Pomfrey says it's just a matter of time until the healing potion works. And Justin insists that bruises are a girl magnet anyway.'

'Justin? Where is he, is he okay?'

Ron started laughing. 'He left the infirmary a few hours ago. He's fine and he has a date with Hanna Abbot tonight.' 

Harry hesitated for a moment before asking: 'Did Draco come here or was I dreaming?' 

Ron nodded. 'He brought your glasses. He found them out in the snow.' 

Harry took his glasses off and examined the lenses and the rim carefully, turning them around in his hands a few times. They looked almost brand-new, as if they had never been broken. But he could still remember the sound as they smashed against his face, chips of glass scraping his skin, drawing blood. 

'Malfoy repaired them for you. He is at detention now, with Crabbe and Goyle. But he told me to tell you he will be at the Divination room tonight.' Ron murmured, a cloudy mood bottled behind his eyes. 'I promised I would, so I'm telling you,' he added stubbornly. 

Harry leaned back against the pillows, wondering if he should thank Ron for the information, or if that would infuriate him even more. He was still contemplating when Ron finally lost his patience and burst out like a firecracker. 

'You don't need to do this.'

'I don't need to do- I don't need what?'

'You don't have to go and talk to Malfoy. You don't owe him anything' Ron was leaning over the bed, his face flushed and eager. 'This is just stupid, Harry, you don't need him. You have me and Hermione too. We're your friends. She was here just a minute ago. She brought a whole pile of today's class notes and then she made me memorise three chapters of History of Magic.' He grimaced, raising his arms in mock indignation. 'She even made me read the footnotes. Lucky you, you were unconscious.' 

'Did you ask her then?'

Ron paused and tilted his head to the side, looking at Harry quizzically. 'Asked her what?'

'If she wants to spend Christmas at the Burrow. You said you'd invite her this year.' 

'Oh. Oh, that.' A blush crept over Ron's neck until it reached his cheeks, suffusing them with red, 'No. Not yet. But I will. Soon. When I get the chance,' he stammered. 'I hope she doesn't bring Crookshanks with her again, he always seems to get into trouble at the Burrow. Remember the last time, when Fred mistook him for a garden gnome and threw him over the fence?' 

They both started laughing, louder and louder until they were breathless from it. Harry's ribs throbbed in pain and he broke into an uncontrollable fit of coughing. Ron slid from his bed and hopped across the room on his toes, wincing at the feel of cold tiles under his bare feet. Harry moved away to make space and Ron sat on a corner of his mattress, half-crawling under the covers. 

'Look, Harry, why don't you come too? You shouldn't spend the vacations alone at Hogwarts. Dad said we'd be glad to have you any time, and mum bakes this great strawberry cake-'

'It's no good, Ron.'

Ron paused and glanced at him in confusion. 'What?' 

'I know what you're trying to do, but it's no good. It's no good,' he repeated, pulling the covers up and turning to stare at the wall. A small spider was creeping across the wall and he watched it until it disappeared in a crack between two stones. The bed dipped under Ron's weight and Harry felt his hand on his shoulder, shaking him. 

'Harry, what are you talking about?' 

'Your mum and dad are great, and it's really nice of them to invite me too, but I don't belong there. You can't keep doing this, Ron. They are not my parents,' he said, matter-of-factly. 'My parents are dead.' 

His words were greeted with complete silence, and he turned round, trying to see what effect they had. 

'Is that why you're going to talk to Malfoy, after all?'

'Yes. No. I don't know really.' He remembered the way Draco had looked at him; eyes sooted with rage and something else, something that went beyond want. Something like need, like hunger. 'But I'm going anyway.'

'Oh, crap,' Ron said, completely deflated, and Harry had to fight against the laughter that was again bubbling up inside. 'Well, he helped us, I suppose. Crabbe and Goyle would have beaten us to a pulp if he hadn't petrified them. Not that he would have lifted a finger to help me alone... Oh, what in Merlin's name am I doing? Defending Malfoy? This is just a bad dream. I'm going to wake up soon. There will be a knock-' 

The knock on the window came like a gunshot. A white owl was fluttering outside, an envelope hanging from her beak. She whacked the glass with her wings until the window burst open. Hedwig shot through the room like white lightning and crashed into Harry's lap haphazardly, immediately falling asleep.

'Hedwig? Ron, I sent her to Sirius!'

'Go on, then, open it!'

The letter was almost indecipherable, a messy scrawl of dots and jagged lines as if Sirius had been in a hurry while writing it. 

__

Dear Harry,

There's a narrow winding path behind the Hogwarts Lake, leading to the west of the Forbidden Forest. I'll be there until dark. If you can't make it, then I'll send an owl with your Christmas present soon. 

Snuffles

Ron, who had been reading over Harry's shoulder, jumped up and started pacing up and down the room.

'You have to rush, Harry, it's getting darker already! Here are your robes. Come on, be quick!'

'But what about Draco?' Harry mumbled, fighting with the sleeves of his pajamas. The room, that slowly filled with dusk was suddenly silent. The pause lengthened out, stretched around them like a river in which the question floated. What about him, really?

'Ron, can you go to the Divination-' Harry swallowed up the rest of his question after seeing Ron's expression. 'Well, I can send him a note.' He ripped off the edge of Sirius' letter and scribbled something quickly, staining his fingertips with ink.

Hedwig opened one yellow eye and glared at him when he waved the note over her beak but she took it obediently and fluttered out, almost bumping into the infirmary walls, still dazed from her previous trip. 

'But how will I get out of the infirmary? Madam Pomfrey will want to escort me straight to the Gryffindor Tower.'

'Well, I have my wand,' Ron offered. 'We could try summoning your Invisibility Cloak.'

'Through all the corridors of Hogwarts? With my luck it will end up on Professor Snape's face.' 

'What then?'

Harry glanced out of the window, then down at the sheets tangled around his legs. 'We're not very high up,' he murmured, twisting the white cloth around his index finger.

'Oh, no!' Ron stared at him in a mixture of apprehension and terror. 'This is a very bad idea.' 

*

The cloth tore just at the last moment and Harry crashed on the frozen ground in a pile of limbs, glasses and sheets. He spat out a mouthful of grass and walked around a bit, to stamp some life back into his feet and make sure he hadn't broken any bones. His ankle had seen better days, and there were more scratches on his arms now than before but nothing too bad. 

He glanced upwards and waved at Ron, who was watching him, chalk-white face framed by the window, a bit blurry behind the glass. Ron gave him a thumbs up and smiled shakily as Harry took off. 

Late afternoon sunlight lay warm across the path, the sun was just slipping below the horizon, clouds unravelled and dissolved into a pinkish mist overhead. Harry walked on, whistling a few tuneless bars between his teeth. Blades of grass and twigs pushed through the thin layer of gritty snow; the tree roots were rising up, long thick fingers, clutching at the frozen earth around. The branches above swayed lightly, splashing him with dribbles of melted snow. Everything was quiet; the silence was only broken by the distant choruses of the frogs at the Hogwarts Lake. 

There was a flash of motion on the bank of the road ahead, as Sirius' figure broke out from a clump of trees and moved forward. Harry ran the last metres to greet him, the snow crust breaking up under his feet.

Sirius was wearing Muggle clothes, dirty jeans and an old coat; his woollen sweater was rough against Harry's face as they clasped each other.

Sirius pulled away first. His hair was longer, falling coarse and straight around a colorless face with deep-sunken eyes. He looked exhausted. And he was staring at Harry as if he had sprouted horns. 

'What the hell happened to you?' 

'Wh-what?'

Sirius ran his thumb across Harry's cheek, tracing the outline of a scar, then touched a bruise over his eyebrow. 

'Oh, that,' Harry sighed. 'I got into a fight with a couple of Slytherins.' 

'A fight? Harry, you shouldn't get involved in this- did you win at least?'

Harry paused, thinking. 'No,' he admitted. 'But I'm not the one who got detention either.'

Sirius' stern expression didn't falter but a flicker of mirth danced in his eyes. 

'Well, that's something then. And how you've grown these last months. You'll soon be taller than me.' 

Harry was well aware of the fact that he needed a couple of decades and probably a couple of spells too to reach Sirius' height. Typical things grown-ups said. 'Now he'll ask me about school,' he thought. 

'So are you studying hard for your O.W.Ls?' 

'Day and night,' he grinned.

Sirius smiled and it made his cheekbones look even more hollow, nothing but fragile skin over bone. 

They chatted on for some time, about classes and friends and about the problems Professor Snape was causing him. 

'Any other problems, Harry?'

He started shaking his head but stopped in mid-gesture. He could ask Sirius for advice about Draco and everything. He could be trusted and he'd know what to deal with this.

'I can't stay any longer. I just wanted to make sure you're all right.' 

'But-' the words stumbled inside his mouth, a sudden bite of despair gnawing at him. 'But you just came. I thought you'd stay at Hogwarts.' He could hear how the tone of his voice had risen, quavering at the last words. 

'I know.' Sirius put his hand under Harry's hair, brushing it away from his forehead. 'But it's not safe. It's full moon tonight and Remus will be alone.'

'I understand,' Harry said in a dull voice, looking down, meaning nothing, tired.

He had already started walking back when he thought he heard Sirius calling out his name. But when he glanced over his shoulder he saw him far behind already, walking away on the narrow footpath as the dusk bled into night. The trees stood close together in the darkness, a solid wall of blue shadow that soon swallowed up his figure. Harry turned round and started running, running so fast it almost felt that he was flying, the rustle of the robes billowing around him like the sound of wings flapping. 

The wind hissed over the frozen grass and howled in his ears but he just yelled back at it. He hadn't eaten anything the whole day; his stomach knotted in pain, and hunger and exhaustion soon robbed him of every trace of co-ordination. The ground flew quicker and quicker under his feet, until his legs couldn't keep up with the pace. He felt his knees giving way, got tangled in his robes and tumbled down on the hard, mossy ground. 

Looking up, Harry realised he was only a few metres away from Hogwarts. There was a bright glitter where the moonlight struck windows or roof-slates; he saw the dark outline of the Gryffindor tower jabbing into the night sky. He stood up, scraping dirt from his palms and knees and slowing his pace to catch his breath, he approached the entrance. Warmth brushed his cheek as he opened the door a crack and quietly slid into the building. 

The corridor was lighted with bright yellow candles, set in holders, and the sudden bright light filled his vision with whorls and blots of white. Harry shut the door behind him and leaned his forehead against it, palms splayed over the wood surface. He took a deep breath. It wasn't fair, needing people who didn't need you back. 

The Divination Room. It was too late, not today. But something had happened; he could see it now, and he was finally beginning to understand. 

Slowly, irrevocably, things were changing. 

*

Draco was dreaming. In his dream, he was leaning over the top steps of a staircase without railing, a very high staircase which he had not climbed. He slipped and fell, spiralling into nothing, and woke up just as he hit the ground, limbs aching from the impact of the imaginary fall. 

He blinked, trying to orientate himself. He had fallen asleep, slouched on the same chair where he had been sitting for hours, waiting. Everything looked different now. The night had crept into the Divination room; shadows danced over the ceiling, the candle on the table by his side had burned down and out. The window was a square of black sky, empty apart from a small, distant moon. Endless rows of porcelain cups and teapots shone pale on the long shelves. Complete silence everywhere, no echo of approaching footsteps. Nobody would come any more, it was too late. 

But Weasley had sworn to tell Harry. 'You can always trust a Weasley's word' his father used to say, 'They are stupid enough to keep their promises.' 

Draco looked down at his hands. His fingers, wrapped around a half-empty cup of tea for hours had gone completely numb. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, as if he had bitten into blackened wood. 'Harry,' he said to himself, voice shrunken to a whisper. 'Harry.' The tea had gone cold and Draco fiddled with the cup for a moment, thinking.

The next morning Sybil Trelawny mourned for hours over all her precious china. 

To be continued 


End file.
